The Second Coming of Camelot
by ivory-sword
Summary: SEQUEL to Forbidden Magic, Unbidden Love. We've all heard of the second coming. Arthur rises again in Albion's greatest time of need. What if ALL the characters got a second chance? Rejoin Ryll, Merlin, Morgana, Arthur and the cast of FMUL in the 21st century to find out if they can work together to save magic from failing and unite Albion forever.
1. Reborn

**Author's Note:** Welcome to my sequel story! If you haven't read _Forbidden Magic, Unbidden Love_ (which I just realized I really hate that title and always have but never came up with a better one) you might be a bit confused about this story. But I wouldn't blame you if you were leery of reading my 830 page first story, so I'll provide a short summary. If you have read my first story, then you can skip past that.

Summary of _Forbidden Magic, Unbidden Love_ : Amaryllis (Ryll) is a girl born of magic and Sidhe blood. She is orphaned at a young age and eventually ends up in Camelot when she's older. She saves Morgana's life and is welcomed into the castle. She becomes good friends with Arthur and Merlin and like a sister to Morgana. Byron is her druid friend who is in love with her. She struggles with learning she has magic and tries to keep it hidden away for a long time. Eventually she learns to use it. She falls in love with Merlin. The story sort of follows the flow of the show, but the ending is quite different. Ryll ends up dying in a battle because she is the key to the future - with her sacrifice everyone in Camelot can be reborn and have a second chance. Arthur and Morgana live and make peace unlike in the show. Without her sacrifice, magic would fail in the future and Albion would be forever lost. I think you might be able to pick up on things pretty quickly without reading the first one if you want to just read this. Oh, and Owl was Ryll's horse in the first one. She's reincarnated as a cat.

Anyway, this story takes place in the 21st century and is all about second chances and giving the characters a different end to their story. It's also definitely about giving Merlin and Ryll their happy ending. Yes, I'm sure a lot of you were quite angry with me after that ending, but I wrote it with this sequel in mind. Thank you to all my readers! I'm very excited about my new story! It will be much shorter than 830 pages. Probably more 300. I hope you enjoy it! I have part one finished, but it needs editing since I totally changed the ending of the first one after writing this. I'll try to post frequently and not take three years to finish! Considering I wrote 100 pages in like two days or something with part one, I think it will go pretty quickly.

* * *

 **Part One: Remembering**

 **-One-**

 **Reborn**

The sky was cloudy overhead which did not bode well for Liz Andreli. She had to work a double shift at the pub owing to the fact that her coworker had called in sick for the second day in a row. The charcoal clouds matched Liz's mood as she lifted the hood of her rain jacket. Hot drops of rain hit her face as she looked up, and she cursed the weather. Some days she swore she was going to move out of the small village of Ealdor but so far she had spent the last three years since graduating from school stuck in a tiny flat above a touristy rock shop. She wasn't really sure what had drawn her to the town. Perhaps it was that it was so different from the bustling London she had grown up in or perhaps because it was so similar to the small village in Wales where she had spent her early years. Either way, she was running late to work.

She picked up her feet, her brown boots splashing in the little puddles that had already formed on the sidewalk. Ealdor wasn't _tiny_ , the population count was 11,220 last time she'd checked, but it took her only minutes to walk halfway across the town to the quaint pub she worked in. The White Dragon had been in business a long time. The walls were decorated with ancient relics that the landlord claimed to be from Camelot. In fact, Ealdor seemed to have a definite Camelot-theme to it. She supposed the tourists ate that sort of thing up, but Liz had always found it silly.

"You're late," Byron said from the bar as Liz entered. He was serving up a round of beers to a table of local fishermen. His dark hair fell over his eyes, but he brushed it aside to look at Liz. She always got goose bumps when those liquid green eyes met hers. He smiled to show that he wasn't really mad. Byron was the landlord's son and worked in the pub when he wasn't away at university. Liz would never admit what a huge crush she had on him, but her relationship so far with Byron was platonic.

"Well it's raining and I forgot to pick up cat food again, so I'm having a bad day already," she said, shrugging off her rain jacket and smoothing out her hair. Her long, honey-colored hair was her trademark feature. She hadn't cut it in years and as a result it hung far past her shoulders in neat waves.

"You still have that ring in," Byron commented. He hadn't been thrilled when she'd gotten a nose-ring a few months before.

"It adds character," Liz threw back at him, filling out a drink order for a couple who were so obviously tourists that it was painful. The man wore a shirt that read: _I Joined the Knights of the Round Table_ while the woman had her nose in a pamphlet about Camelot and King Arthur.

"Did you know that they _still_ haven't proved that Camelot ever even existed?" Liz said to Byron in a mock whisper after the couple had moved off.

He lifted an eyebrow. "Don't let my patrons hear you," he said. "You'll be hung in a gibbet for the crows."

" _Please_ , you know I think these legends are absurd. I mean, sorcerers and magical swords?" She eyed a replica of Excalibur that rested on the wall above the bar.

"Just because you don't believe in them doesn't mean you have to rub it in everyone's face. People like to believe in magical legends and all that."

"Right, well, I'll be over here in the real world if you need me." Ryll grabbed a rag and went to wipe down the vacant tables. She was sweeping a few stray peanuts into her hand when she saw a figure sitting in the corner staring straight at her. He had short dark hair and dark eyes. Decidedly handsome. She put on her best smile as she strode back to the bar.

"Who's the tall, dark, and handsome in the corner?" she asked Byron.

"I have no idea," he said flatly. "Focus on your job, not flirting."

Liz huffed. "Never mind then." She stalked off to take the garbage out. The narrow hall leading out to the alley was dark, and she didn't notice the figure following her. She tossed the garbage into the bin and turned to find herself facing the man she'd seen looking at her a moment ago.

"Can I help you?" she asked a little gruffly. He looked harmless, but one could never be too careful.

"I was looking for someone," the man said. "You just look a lot like her."

"I don't know you," Liz said.

"Her name was Ryll."

Liz frowned. "That's an odd name. I've never heard of anyone called that before."

"It was a nickname." His eyes went distant for a moment.

"Well, I can't help you there. I don't know anyone by that name. Maybe you could try the phonebook," Liz suggested, moving around him to reenter the building.

He shook his head as if coming back from a distant memory. "Good idea. Sorry to bother you." He backed away, and Liz almost felt sorry for him.

"Hey," she called after him. "Why do you need to find her?"

"Because she's very important," he said after a pause. "Not just to me but to a lot of people."

"Well, good luck," Liz called after him. He smiled back at her before disappearing around the pub's corner. She hurried back into the bar before Byron had a reason to yell at her. There was something about that stranger though…. Why did she get the feeling that she knew him from somewhere? She shook the thought out of her head. She would have remembered if they had met before. No one that handsome got in under her radar.

 **...**

"It's definitely her." Somehow it felt like a betrayal passing on this information.

"And she remembers nothing?" The voice came from the figure standing at the window. He stood gazing out with hands linked behind his back. His grey suit was pressed to perfection as always.

"No, Sire. She doesn't even remember her name. According to my research, her full name is Amaryllis Andreli. She never goes by Amaryllis though. It's always Liz. She has family in Wales and distant relatives in Spain but no connections in Ealdor. She's worked at The White Dragon pub for two and a half years now but doesn't seem to have any friends outside of the owner's son."

"And no one has come to visit her in the three years she's been in Ealdor?"

"No. No one. She's basically a normal twenty-two year old girl. She attends the local community college during the fall and spring – studying everything from biology to literature to history. She holds no stock in the legends though. She thinks it's all a big joke."

"Good. Let's keep it that way." A pause. "And my son?" He finally turned around, his cold, grey eyes meeting his informant's darker ones. His hair was short and grey and a scar ran slanted across his forehead. Even in a world where he wasn't king, he looked noble. His informant averted his eyes as he spoke.

"No sign of him yet. We'll keep searching."

The disappointment was clear in the king's voice. "He was supposed to come back when she did. Why has he not?"

"The legends are not clear. The rules-"

"I don't care about some magical law laid down. I want my son. We must find him before they do. The fate of everything rests on us finding him first."

"Yes, my Lord."

"I hope you know where your loyalties lie."

His informant risked a glance at him. "Yes, Sire," he said, voice flat. If he had a choice, he would walk straight out of this building and never come back, but he had no choice.

"I hope that whatever feelings you had for the girl in your past life don't interfere now."

"Of course not, my Lord."

"Good. Then you may go." His informant turned to leave, but the king stayed him with another warning. "Oh, and one more thing. If she asks your name – should you need to speak to her again – use a different name. Not too many people are called Lancelot these days."

 **...**

Liz peered out the front door of the pub. She and Byron had closed it a few minutes before, but she was still getting up the nerve to leave the shelter of the building.

"The rain isn't going to stop if you stare at it," Byron said.

Liz turned to survey him. She loved the soft Irish lilt to his voice. "I know that. The least a gentleman could do would be offer me a ride home."

"You'll get just as wet on my motorbike as on your own two legs."

She pretended to pout. "But I'll be home faster so that I can get out of my wet clothes."

"You're not going to take no for an answer, are you?" He sighed. "All right, come on." He locked up the front door and they went through the back to where he kept his motorbike. "Helmet." He handed her his spare helmet, and she strapped it on. The bike was dry under the shelter of the awning, and she gratefully slid on behind Byron, wrapping her arms around his torso. He revved the engine and they took off. It was a short ride and they were both soaked by the end of it but when they reached Liz's apartment, she found she didn't want to go in.

"Will you come in and dry off?" she asked.

"I'll just have to get wet all over again," he told her as she handed him the spare helmet. "Unless you're suggesting what I think you are."

"Byron Donahue, you know I'm not that kind of girl."

He grinned roguishly "Then I'll see you tomorrow at the pub."

"Tomorrow's my day off, and I am _not_ covering for Cassie again. She's faking it. Just go to her house and see for yourself. She just can't get over that boyfriend of hers breaking up with her."

"Fine. Take the day off. I'll see you on Thursday." Byron grinned at her before taking off. Liz watched him until she could no longer see the taillights of his bike and then ran up the stairs on the side of the building to get to her apartment door. The Crystal Cave was closed already, but tourist season hadn't really taken off, so she didn't suppose they were getting much business. She rolled her eyes at the thought of the old woman who ran the store. She _swore_ that her crystals had come from _the_ Crystal Caves. Liz snorted. That was one way of selling overpriced crystals to unwitting tourists. The only thing she could see in the stones was a scam.

Owl was in quite the mood when Liz walked into the apartment. She meowed loudly demanding dinner and would not quiet down until Liz had poured her a bowl of kibbles. "I _need_ to go to the store tomorrow," she said out loud. She barely had enough food for either of them. Owl was contentedly scarfing down her dinner, making no effort to keep the cat food in the bowl.

"Well, pretty girl, what should we do tonight?" Her first priority would have to be changing out of her wet clothes. Liz decided to go straight to PJs and was soon dry and snug in her flannel pajama bottoms and worn T-shirt. The T-shirt read: "I went to Camelot and all I got was this lousy T-shirt" across the front. Byron had bought it for her a week after she'd started at the pub. It fit her sentiments quite accurately.

Finished with her dinner, Owl jumped up onto the couch where Liz was lounging looking for pets. Her golden fur was silky soft from her daily brushing, and her eyes were the color of honey as she stared up at Liz. "What will it be? Chick flick or adventure?"

Owl meowed loudly. "Hmm, adventure it is." Ryll turned on the television and put in a DVD. Somehow her attention wasn't in the movie that night. Something had been tugging at the corners of her mind ever since she had seen the handsome stranger in The White Dragon. It was just a feeling, but somehow she felt as if there was something more for her out there – it wasn't just the 'I need to get out of this small town and get a real job' feeling. It was more of a feeling of having _had_ a more exciting life at some point. That was impossible though. Moving out on her own _was_ the most exciting thing she'd ever done. Yet she felt as if suddenly her life was mediocre compared to what she had done before. If only she could remember what that was.

She shook the thought from her head. Clearly she'd breathed in too many beer fumes. She pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and curled up next to Owl. She really needed a day off.


	2. I'll See You Again

**-Two-**

 **I'll See You Again**

 _Finally_ after so many hundreds of years of waiting, he had seen the sign. It had come on a midsummer's eve three years ago. The prophecies had all stated that the king and his savior would rise when the eye of Pegasus fell on a midsummer's eve. He'd waited and waited, chasing the constellation around the globe throughout the changing seasons and keeping a telescope near at hand. And yet it had been three years since he'd seen it fall. He wished the prophecy would have been more specific when it had said that King Arthur would rise again when Albion's time of need was the greatest. It didn't say where he would rise or when exactly, just that he would.

He'd checked all the obvious places, Camelot (or what was left of it), the Crystal Caves (blocked by a rockslide), even the shores of Lake Avalon where he had laid Ryll to rest across the waters. He shut his eyes at this thought. Even after 900 years, it still hurt to remember Ryll dying. Everything had led up to that final battle with King Sarrum, and she'd taken an enchanted arrow to save Merlin. He could still see it slicing through the air toward him and then her falling to the ground, the arrow protruding from her chest. The arrow had been made of dragon's fire. There was nothing he could do to save her. Before she'd died she had told him that they'd see each other again in a second life. All he'd wanted was to have her in that life, but somehow he'd kept going, day after day without her, with the hope that they would be together again.

"I'll wait for you," he'd told her. "Always."

"Good," she'd said. "Because I'm coming back for _you_."

He opened his eyes. There was one place he hadn't searched yet. Avalon itself. Ryll had once told him that only the Sidhe and the dead could set foot there. He wasn't sure about powerful sorcerers, but in truth, his power had been fading over the years. He wasn't sure if he was losing it or if the world just wasn't magical enough for someone like him anymore. He hadn't met someone with magic for many years and it wasn't practiced freely anymore. There was a time when people were even burned at the stake for using magic. It was like Uther's reign all over again.

But he, Merlin, Emrys, the immortal warlock who had spent the last 900 years alone, had endured. He'd watched his friends die of old age and then watched as Camelot was conquered years later. He'd watched and waited for the sign of Arthur's second coming, hoping that it would bring Ryll with it. He'd waited and waited…

And now he thought he knew where Arthur was, but he could not set foot on the island without Ryll. He _needed_ her. And he had no idea where she was. She had been on earth for three years now and he had no idea how to find her. He'd tried finding her with magic, but somehow it didn't work. It just kept pointing to a little village called Ealdor, but the Ealdor Merlin knew was long gone. Then, when he was least expecting it, he found something that gave him all the answers in one short slogan. A flyer stuck to his front door one morning. He ripped it off irritably and found himself looking down at an inaccurate drawing of Camelot castle. "Find your inner magic in Ealdor!" it read. "Explore the ruins of Camelot and see The Crystal Caves." Ealdor. It _was_ a town. A tourist town by the looks of it. It wasn't even close to the real ruins of Camelot, but people were apt to believe anything if someone claimed it was true. But what if this was where Ryll was? The map had kept pointing to Ealdor when he had used magic to track her. He hadn't considered that someone had founded a modern town with the same name as his hometown.

It was in the country by the sea, a four-hour drive from where he lived. He'd locked up his house, packing a bag and tossing it into the back of his car. It occurred to him how much he'd adapted over the years. He'd seen cars invented, watched as people turned them from loud, clunking carts into smooth, fast vehicles. He revved the engine and backed out of his driveway, tapping Ealdor into his GPS. It showed him the most direct route, and he took it. After all those years of waiting, Ryll had been four hours away from his house (at least he hoped she was there). Would she be as thrilled to see him as he would be to see her? He wasn't sure how her second coming would work. In the prophecy, it had sounded like she would be reborn in the same state as when she had died but that she would be younger. It was as if being reborn reversed the years. It would be like suddenly existing in a new world. How had she managed? Had this new world frightened her? She'd had no one to talk to, no one to help her adjust. He knew how that felt.

The drive seemed to take forever even though he only stopped once to top off his petrol tank. The city turned into country, and he could smell the sea through his open window before he could see it. Ealdor was small and clean. He could see it on the horizon with its white-painted buildings and neat two-story houses. He had no idea how he was going to find her. He'd ask around. Someone had to know something.

As he pulled into the town, he saw a sign advertising a Camelot museum. Clearly these people really believed that their town was built close to the ruins of Camelot. If only they knew that the real ruins were a good six-hour drive from here and well hidden at the center of a forest. He decided to try the tourist gift-shop first. If this was where Ryll was living, she had to have been in here once or twice. He parked in one of the slanted parking spots along the street and entered the store. A bell rang overhead and a mid-teens girl came up to the counter from the backroom. She wore a fake tiara and her nametag read "Tara."

"Hello!" she said brightly. "Welcome to Camelot Gifts! Is this your first time in Camelot?"

Merlin smiled. "No," he said. "But I haven't been in a long time."

"Well, we've done a lot of remodeling in the last few years. Ealdor is one of the fastest growing tourist towns in England. Is there anything I can help you find?"

"Actually I was looking for someone," Merlin said. "A girl named Ryll or Amaryllis. I believe she lives here."

The girl pondered the name for a moment. "Nope. I'd remember that name."

"Anyone new to the town in the last, say, three years?"

"Oh, lots of people. Ealdor is one of the fastest growing tourist towns in-"

"All right, thanks," Merlin said, ducking out of the store before she could continue her statistic. Maybe she was going by a different name these days. She always had said that Amaryllis was a mouthful, and Ryll wasn't a common name if it even _was_ a name. He stood on the sidewalk, looking around and trying to decide what to do next. He was thirsty – in his haste to leave the house, he hadn't brought any water. He saw a pub across the way that looked decent. The White Dragon. He had to laugh at this. The only white dragon he'd come across had been Morgana's. Aithusa had become the very last of her kind when the dragon Kilgharrah had finally passed on. She'd shared a special attachment to Morgana and had lived out her days with the sorceress on the outskirts of Camelot where she had room to fly.

Merlin crossed the street and entered the pub. The boy working the taps looked familiar, but Merlin struggled to place him. "What can I help you with?" he asked.

"I'll take a beer," Merlin said. "Light."

"Right you are. I haven't seen you around here before. Up for the day or just passing through?"

"Up for the day. I was looking for someone, actually. An old friend. We fell out of touch and the last I heard, she was living here."

"I know just about everyone in town. Maybe I can be of some help." He passed Merlin a mug.

"Her name is Amaryllis, but she usually goes by Ryll." He watched as the boy's eyes turned suspicious. So he had heard of her. Merlin tried to keep his excitement from showing.

"An old friend, you say?"

"Yeah. We've known each other for ages. We just went in separate directions. She's got long, honey-colored hair and bright blue eyes."

"I know a girl who fits that description. She works here actually."

"Oh?" What a coincidence, but he'd stopped believing in coincidences long ago.

"She goes by Liz, but I know her full name is Amaryllis. Don't know many people named that these days."

"No, it's an unusual name. Is she working today by chance?"

"No. Today is her day off, but she'll be in tomorrow at ten if you wanted to speak with her."

"Yes. I'll be back then. Thank you." Merlin could hardly contain his excitement as he downed his drink. What were the chances that she worked at the very pub he'd come to? It was as if fate had played a hand in it. The boy at the bar kept glancing at him, and Merlin realized he was protective over Ryll – Liz. He wanted to ask him more, but he didn't want to come off as too interested.

"Is there a good inn to stay at?" he asked when the bartender came back around.

The boy gave him a long look before replying. "Try the Avalon Inn. It's on the corner of Eastside and 1st Avenue. You can't miss it. The rate is fair and you get breakfast in the morning."

"Thanks."

"Will she be glad to see you?" the boy asked as Merlin set down the money for the drink and turned to leave. "It's just, you said you went your separate ways. I just wondered if something happened between you two. She's vulnerable. I know she doesn't like to show it, but I look out for her."

"We didn't part on bad terms," Merlin said. "Our lives just took us in very different directions."

The boy seemed to find this a suitable answer. "Then I'll be seeing you." He turned away, and Merlin took that as approval. The White Dragon was located on Eastside and 10th, so Merlin got in his car and drove until he reached 1st. The Inn was right on the corner and overlooked the water. He pulled into the parking lot and walked into the office to rent a room. A few minutes later, key in hand, he was checked into the hotel for an indefinite stay. He'd paid for a week, but he'd see how this went. He didn't know why he was nervous. It wasn't like Ryll wouldn't be thrilled to see him. Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough.

…

Liz was pulling on her boots when her mobile rang early Thursday morning. She answered, noting that Byron's name had popped up on the screen. The clock read 9:30, so she wasn't late. "What's up?" she asked as she pulled on her second boot.

"I just wanted to warn you that an old friend is coming in to see you today."

"Old friend?" From Wales? London? Who would come here?

"I didn't get the name, but he had dark hair and blue eyes. Tall and thin. He said he knew you from a long time ago but that you'd gone separate ways."

Liz chewed her lip as she thought. "Nope, not ringing a bell. I guess I'll see."

"Right. See you in a few." She hung up and dropped her mobile in her bag. "I'll see you after work," she told Owl who sat watching her with unblinking eyes.

The walk to work was a lot more pleasant today because the sky was unerringly blue with not a cloud in sight. Spring was turning into summer and soon the tourists would be flocking to the town. For now she could enjoy the peacefulness of the morning.

Byron was just opening up when she arrived. They didn't bother to open earlier than ten until summer hit. He gave her a penetrating look when she came within view. "And what is _that_?" he asked, pointing to the strand of bright blue in her hair.

"This?" Liz plucked the strand and twirled it around her finger. "I got bored yesterday. And I wanted to dye my hair. I wimped out and only dyed this strand."

Byron rolled his eyes. "I liked it the way it was."

"Look, I know you think I have some sort of identity crisis thing going on, but really, it's just a phase where I'm trying new things," Liz said, following Byron into the pub.

"Well I like you just the way you are. You don't have to keep changing yourself."

"What if I don't know who I am? Maybe I'm trying to find myself? Did you ever consider that?" She knew this argument wore on his nerves. He did have a point. The last three years of her life she hadn't quite felt like she was the right person. So she experimented. So far she'd struck out. The underlying feeling that she had once been someone completely different was growing stronger everyday. So was her frustration.

"You're Liz Andreli, bartender and part-time college student. You're intelligent and beautiful. You dote upon your cat more than yourself. You love action adventure movies but hate anything with historical inaccuracy, you eat cookies and cream ice cream when you need cheering up, and love to dance. There's nothing wrong with the way you are. Except maybe that nose ring and the blue."

Liz smiled at this. "It will come out," she assured him. "Eventually."

Byron sighed. "Just let me know if you need to talk. I don't want to see you recede into yourself again."

"I promise. Thanks, Byron, for always being there. You know, whatever the line is."

Byron rolled his eyes. "You're welcome. Now get to work."

…

Merlin woke late despite his eagerness to see Ryll. He dressed quickly and walked back to The White Dragon. He stopped outside the door, his nerves getting the better of him. He took a deep breath. This was it. This was the moment he had been waiting for 900 years. He pushed the door open and entered. Then stopped again.

There she was. He suddenly couldn't breathe. Ryll stood at the counter, wiping down the bar. Her hair was just as long and golden as he remembered, her skin porcelain white with the tiniest touch of the sun. The blue strand of hair was new, but times had changed. She looked up when he entered, but no remembrance or excitement crossed through her blue eyes. She just looked right through him as if he was just another patron. Merlin felt his excitement shudder and slow before crashing to a jarring stop. He forced himself to walk forward until he reached the bar. Ryll watched him expectantly.

"Ryll?" He'd waited so long for this moment, but no recognition flickered in her eyes. She was staring at him like he was a stranger.

"No," she said, annoyance tingeing her voice. "But it's funny," she added. "You're the second person to have mistaken me for her."


	3. The Pain of Forgetting

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the wait. I couldn't get the website loaded yesterday. So I just wanted to thank you guys for all of the favorites, follows, and reviews on this story as well as its predecessor! After I posted the end of the first one and the first two chapters of this one, my entire e-mail box was filled with notifications! I have to admit, I was really nervous about the ending I wrote, but everyone had kind words to say, and I'm very appreciative of that. So I have only read one modern Merlin story which I really loved, but it sounds like they tend to go haywire pretty frequently, so I'm going to do my best to keep this story on course. I have 100 pages that I wrote like half a year ago. (No wait, apparently Feb. of 2014; I just looked up when I created the document...wow.) I'm just editing/rewriting those pages, but I've got a fun plot, I think. I've got three parts planned out, and a pretty clear goal. It's a lot simpler than the first story, but it's also a lot less dark. There will be a lot of light-hearted moments. Anyway, I hope you all continue to enjoy it!

* * *

 **-Three-**

 **The Pain of Forgetting**

The boy was staring at Liz with a mixture of horror and surprise. She felt kind of bad for him, but why did everyone keep insisting she was this Ryll? What kind of name was that? "I'm Liz," she amended. "At least that's what everyone calls me."

"Amaryllis."

"Yeah. How did you know that's my full name?" she asked. "Who are you anyway?" He practically flinched at this.

"I know your full name because I know you," he said. "Or I did." He paused for a moment. "I'm Merlin," he said in a soft voice. "We used to know each other. Don't you remember?"

Liz just stared at him. "Your name is Merlin?" she asked with disbelief. "Like the wizard? Is this some sort of joke?"

Hurt flitted across his face. "This isn't a joke," he said.

"And we know each other? How is that possible? Did we have a class together at the community college?" she asked. This had to be it. He was probably one of the nameless faces in her lecture halls.

"No."

"All right. London? Wales?"

"No. We knew each other a long time ago." He seemed hesitant to say where they'd met.

"Okay, so a childhood friend? I don't recall knowing any Merlins."

"Have you ever been to Camelot?" he asked abruptly. Liz blinked. Was he some sort of crazy tourist thinking she was Guinevere reborn or something?

"Umm, the ruins? Sure. Loads of times. I'm not really into that sort of thing though. I studied history for a while. Half the stuff they tell you in this tacky tourist town is not true. According to historical records, Camelot wouldn't even be close to here. It wasn't so near to the sea." She shut up when she realized how nerdy she had just sounded. She was supposed to be the suave bartender, not the nerdy college-kid who liked history way too much.

"No, I mean the real Camelot."

It took her a moment to realize he was being sarcastic. But he didn't look as if he was trying to be sarcastic.

"You really don't remember?" his tone was desperate now, and she shrunk back instinctually. "I'm sorry. I just didn't expect this," he said. "I've been waiting so long."

"For what?"

"For you."

"All right, now this is getting creepy," she said. Where was Byron when she needed him?

"I'm not going to hurt you," the boy – Merlin – told her as if guessing her thoughts. "It's just the girl I knew, well, we were very close."

"You loved her." Ryll stopped looking for Byron. Maybe this guy wasn't crazy after all. Love could make you do crazy things, but that didn't make him crazy.

"Yeah. And she loved me. Her last words to me were that she would come back again for me."

"She died?" No wonder he was so desperate to believe she was this Ryll.

"Yeah. She died to save me. She sacrificed her life." She could see guilt in his eyes and realized he blamed himself for her death.

"That's incredible. I can't imagine ever being brave enough or self-less enough to do such a thing."

"That's not true."

"Oh? You think you know me?" she challenged.

He watched her carefully, blue eyes sad. "I think that you remind me a lot of her. She was spirited too. Stubborn." Liz lifted an eyebrow at this. "Always fighting for what she thought was right."

"She sounds like quite the girl."

"She was."

"Tell me, Merlin. What brought you here? Why Ealdor of all places? And how did you know I'd be here?"

"It's kind of a long story." He sighed.

"I've got the time." The bar was empty and something about this boy intrigued Liz. Maybe she just felt sorry for him but it seemed like something more. There _was_ something familiar about him. A sort of comfort that she felt around him though she knew nothing about him. Normally she was so cautious around strangers. All it took was one look from a boy she didn't know and her hackles were up. It wasn't like that with this boy though. He was somehow safe.

"Okay, well, it started when I got a flyer on my door." He pulled something out of his jacket pocket and laid a crumpled flyer on the bar. Liz smoothed it out. It was an advertisement for the town of Ealdor.

"Oh, you got one too." A stab of curiosity hit her. It was a coincidence. Or was it? "That's kind of crazy. I got one too. Three years ago before I'd moved here. I got this crazy idea that I'd prove all their theories wrong. I was studying history at the time and had this obsession with trying to prove theories wrong. I ended up staying." She handed the flyer back.

"Maybe you were meant to come here," Merlin suggested.

She shrugged. "I don't really believe in fate or destiny or any of that. The only one who has control over my life is me."

"What if I told you that everyone has a destiny?"

"I'm not sure I'd believe you."

"And what if I told you that not all legends are false?"

"I'd have to argue that most legends are based on real facts but over time the stories get varied and facts get changed and by the end, most everything is a falsification of history."

"Did you get that out of a textbook?" He cocked an eyebrow, clearly amused.

Liz cleared her throat. "No. Never mind, it doesn't matter."

"Can I ask you something? And promise you'll think about it, don't just dismiss it."

"All right."

"Do you believe in reincarnation? Or if not that, second chances?"

Liz pursed her lips. This was an interesting conversation. She had to admit that at least. "Well," she started. "Many cultures believe that after they die they'll have the chance to come back as another person or even as an animal."

"But what do _you_ believe?" he pressed as if he knew of her tendency to answer questions based on what other people thought.

"Me? I think that it's a romantic sort of idea that seems highly improbable."

"And second chances?"

"It depends," she said. "What kind of second chances are we talking about here? Like 'oops I messed up, give me another chance?' or 'something went wrong in my life, so now I get a second chance to get it right'?"

"The latter."

"I would like to believe that." She bit her lip.

"You mentioned Wales earlier. Did you grow up there?"

Normally her past was off limits, but Liz saw no harm in the idle chatter. "Yes, I did. My parents moved to London when I was five so I mostly grew up there, but I like to think of Wales as my homeland."

"But your family isn't originally from there?"

"No. I think we're a mixture of Spanish and English. How did you know that?"

"You mentioned London and Wales. I just assumed you'd grown up or at least spent time in both of those places. Andreli isn't an English name though. Or Welsh, so I assumed your lineage had to come from somewhere else."

"I never mentioned my last name," Liz said, instantly on guard again.

"Your friend mentioned your full name last night when I stopped by for a drink," Merlin said quickly.

"Oh, Byron, you mean." So _this_ was the old friend he'd warned her about. Where was he anyway? She'd have to speak to him about giving out all her personal information to strangers who claimed they knew her.

"Byron?" Realization lit his eyes as if he'd only just remembered something.

"Yeah. He's the landlord's son. He works the bar most days when he's not away at school."

"Has he lived here his whole life?" Merlin questioned.

"Yeah, I think so. Why? Is he some long lost friend too?" She narrowed her eyes.

"No, it's nothing. I just thought the name sounded familiar, that's all." She could tell that there was something else. He wasn't a very good liar, but she saw no reason to press him.

"Listen, I should get back to work," she said. "But why don't you come back tonight? It's trivia night and all the locals get involved. Even some of the tourists take a stab at it. You can test your Camelot knowledge. It's a lot of fun."

"I thought you didn't believe in any of that nonsense?" he asked. She could tell that he was teasing her by the way his lip curved up and his eyes danced. She had always loved how much he joked. Wait, what? She shook her head. That thought had made no sense. Clearly she needed another day off. She did know anything about him. She was thinking about Byron. She liked it when Byron joked around with her. He was always too serious.

"Well, working here you learn a lot of things you didn't really need to know. I could probably tell you almost anything about Camelot," she replied to his question. "I could also tell you how much of that is probably inaccurate and false."

"I have a feeling I might do well at that."

"Great. The winning team gets a free round of beer."

"I'll see you tonight then."

As he turned to leave, Liz felt a strain as if she didn't want him to leave. "Wait," she said without really having a reason to stop him. He turned back and the hope in his eyes was so obvious that she wanted to give him what he wanted. "Thanks for telling me about her," she said instead.

He was quiet for a moment. "Sure," he said finally. "Thanks for listening." He turned and left the pub, and Liz was alone. This time when the feeling of emptiness crept over her, she could hardly breathe. It was the same sensation she'd felt the last three years of her life only multiplied. It left her wondering who she was and why her life didn't feel right. She tugged at the blue strand of hair and wondered what else she could try before she got herself right.


	4. Trivia Night

**-Four-**

 **Trivia Night**

It was with a heavy heart that Merlin returned to his room at the Avalon Inn. He sat on his bed, staring out the window that overlooked the sea without really seeing it.

She hadn't remembered. Ryll – no, _Liz_ – didn't remember who she was. She didn't remember Camelot. She didn't remember her past life. And most painfully of all, she didn't remember Merlin.

He'd waited 900 years for this moment and never once in all the times he'd imagined the reunion had he considered that she might not remember anything of her past life. It was as if she had started with a clean slate. She really wasn't Ryll anymore. She was Liz, the small-town bartender who had a nose piercing and blue hair. Merlin buried his face in his hands. Today had _not_ gone as planned. He'd at least succeeded in not scaring her away. She probably thought he was half crazy, but she hadn't kicked him out of the pub or called for reinforcements.

Which brought him to the bartender whom he had spoken to the night before. Byron. Somehow in his excitement to find Ryll, Merlin hadn't even recognized the druid boy. It seemed fitting that Ryll would end up with him of all the people in Camelot. Merlin wondered if there was anything between them in this life. He knew that there had been a spark between them from the start. He'd tried to ignore it, but it still bothered him even though he knew Ryll had never acted on that spark. The thought of her with him made him jealous. He sighed. She wasn't his Ryll anymore. She had a whole lifetime of experiences that didn't involve him. But did she?

According to the prophecy, the king and his savior would be reborn the day Pegasus's eye fell. What if Ryll only _thought_ she was Liz? What if the memories she had were false? Did she really have a past before Ealdor or did she just have memories of a fake past? Maybe it was only a matter of making her remember. The real Ryll could still be in there somewhere. All that they had been through couldn't just be gone. Her last words to him couldn't have been for nothing. She would return _for him_. Ryll had to be in there somewhere and he wouldn't give up until he found her. She had told him that she had a habit of finding false facts and disproving theories. Maybe she needed to disprove her own past before she could remember the truth.

…

A lone figure stood across the street from the Avalon Inn. He'd witnessed the boy's arrival and watched the exchange between him and the girl. Merlin had returned, but it was clear from the girl's reactions that she had no idea who he was. If anything or anyone could have helped her remember, it would have been Merlin. If seeing him hadn't been enough to wake up her memories then nothing would be. And if there was no risk of that, then he didn't see why he should concern his master with this information.

Merlin wasn't doing any harm, and Liz had no idea who she really was. Of course they couldn't have Merlin planting ideas in her head. He'd have to keep a close eye on the warlock. And when the time was right, he would find the king's son. Arthur would return.

…

Trivia night was always fun even though Liz always knew all the answers. The problem was, she couldn't just go blabbing them out and looking like a complete know-it-all. That would ruin her reputation as a bartender. So for the last few years, every trivia night, she'd whisper the answers to Byron before the teams had a chance to answer. And she was always right. Well, _almost_ always right.

Tonight she kept an eye on the door as the locals and the occasional tourist, looking as if he or she was lost, came through the door. She felt a jilt of excitement when Merlin walked through the door. He came over to her, a smile on his face.

"You made it," Liz said, trying not to give away her excitement. She wasn't really sure why she was excited. He wasn't really her type at all, but there was just something about him that made her want to learn more about him and the woman he had once loved – the woman she seemed to look like.

"Yeah, I did," he said.

"Can I get you something to drink? We'll be starting in a few minutes."

"Just water for now. I want to keep a clear head."

"Good idea." She poured him a water and watched as another group of tourists entered. "Hopefully none of them will mistake me for Guinevere tonight," she said, rolling her eyes. "Just because she looks like me in all the pictures. Well, maybe after a few drinks."

"She doesn't look at all like you. Not really," Merlin said. Then realizing he'd said something odd, he ducked his head. "I mean, not the pictures I've seen, but they could be entirely wrong, I have no idea."

"Well, I guess neither of us will ever know."

"By the way, I forgot to ask you earlier. You mentioned that I was the second person to have mistaken you for Ryll. Who was the first?" he asked.

"Oh, just some guy who came into the pub day before yesterday. He had dark hair and eyes. A bit older than you. He didn't say his name, but he thought I was her too. He made it sound like she was still alive though. He said something odd." She frowned, trying to remember. "He said that she was important, not just to him but to a lot of people. That's what he said. That doesn't make it sound like she's dead."

"No."

"Who was he? Do you know?"

Merlin shook his head. Before they had the chance to discuss it further, Byron's father took called for quiet and began to explain the rules of the game. "All right. This half of the bar is team A, the other half team B. You can talk amongst yourselves to come up with an answer. Keep it to your own group. First to answer correctly gets a point. Whichever team ends up with the most points wins. Drinks on me." A deafening cheer went up. "Tonight's theme is Camelot! Let's get started!" He fumbled with the notecards he kept the questions on.

"First question. Let's see. This one's an easy one." Liz looked around for Byron but he was at the other end of the bar. "Who was King Arthur's most trusted knight?"

"Lancelot," Merlin said without hesitation.

The patrons looked over at him in surprise. "Give us a chance!" they laughed.

"Sorry." He looked slightly abashed. The rest of his team moved their chairs closer to him.

"A point for us, we're not complaining," they said.

"All right. One point for team A. Next question. What was the name of the place where the great sorcerer Merlin saw the future?"

"The Crystal Cave," Merlin replied again. His team was awarded another point.

"I've got an idea, why don't you just answer for us?" one of the men on his team suggested. The others murmured in agreement.

Merlin shrugged. "Works for me." He grinned at Liz who was beginning to get interested in trivia night for the first time in a long time.

"Next question. Who was King Arthur's true love and queen?"

"Gwen or Guinevere," Merlin answered without pausing to take a breath.

His team cheered. They seemed perfectly content to let him answer all the questions. "Three points for team A!" Team B moaned.

"Pretty good," Liz said to Merlin. "I didn't realize you were so knowledgeable about Camelot."

"I'm kind of a history-buff," he said. "At least about Camelot." He turned his head apologetically. "I know you're not into that sort of thing."

Liz shrugged. "I don't believe in magic."

"All right, this one's a tough one. What relation was Morgan Le Fay to King Arthur?"

"Half-sister."

Team B groaned. Liz noticed Byron watching Merlin forlornly. He'd asked her about him as soon as he'd left the pub earlier that morning, but she'd just replied that he was an old friend she was trying to remember. She didn't see any harm in talking to him. He was clearly just missing his departed girlfriend who happened to look like her. Nothing _too_ odd about that.

"For double points, what was the name of Arthur's legendary sword and how did he gain it?"

"Excalibur and he pulled it from a stone," Merlin said right on cue.

"He's quick," Byron said, coming up beside Liz. He wasn't smiling.

"He's knows about Camelot," Liz agreed. "But who doesn't in this town?"

"He's not from here though."

"So? He said he was a history buff."

"He said he was? Wouldn't you know that if you're old friends?"

"By old friends I mean we haven't seen each other for a really long time."

"You have no idea who he is, do you?" Byron asked. Liz glared at him. How did he always know when she was lying? "I don't like him talking to you."

"It's all right. He's harmless. I just remind him of someone he used to know."

"He knew your full name."

"Well, maybe I just have the same name as someone he knew."

"How many people do you know with that name?" Byron asked, lifting a brow.

"It's not unheard of," Liz retorted. "Just leave him alone, okay?"

"Fine. But if he does anything-"

"I said leave him alone," Liz snapped. "He hasn't done anything. Don't be such a bully." She didn't know why she was defending him so adamantly. She just knew he was someone she could trust. Somehow.

…

Trivia night went on with Merlin not missing a single question. Finally they got to the last question. Merlin glanced at Liz who was smiling at him. Here was a chance to try to convince her, spark a memory, anything. Merlin turned back to the man reading the questions. He pulled the final card out, and Merlin focused on it. His eyes glowed amber for a second and then faded back to his normal blue.

"Who was the first female to become a knight of the Round Table?" the man read aloud.

The patrons started murmuring to each other. Merlin paused. "I didn't know there _was_ a female knight," someone said.

"What kind of question is that?" another asked. "There were no female knights."

"There was one," Merlin said, smiling faintly. "Amaryllis d' Andreli. She saved King Arthur's life many times. She died in battle."

His words hung in silence. Everyone was gaping at him. He didn't dare look at Ryll. Not yet.

"He's right," the man reading the questions says. "It says it right here." He scratched his head. "Amaryllis d' Andreli. The first woman knight of Camelot. Final score, Team A: twenty-five points, Team B: zero. Drinks for Team A!"

Team A roared its approval, patting Merlin on the back. Team B muttered, going back to their drinks. Merlin finally turned to look at Ryll. She was staring at him, her eyes narrowed in a questioning look.

"What are you playing at?" she said softly when the rest of Team A had moved away to get their free drinks.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said.

"Amaryllis d' Andreli? That's me. That's my full name."

"You could be related to her."

"I'm not related to a knight of Camelot."

"How do you know that?" he asked.

"I'm just not," Ryll said, but her voice lacked conviction. "Then I suppose you're related to the great Merlin?" she asked.

"Something like that."

"You asked if I believed in reincarnation," Ryll said after a pause. Merlin watched her hopefully. Was she remembering something?

"Yes, I did."

"Well if I was a reincarnation of a knight, then wouldn't I have battle scars or something?"

Merlin frowned. "Reincarnation is like being reborn. I don't think you'd have any marks. But Amaryllis did have one distinctive marking. On her left shoulder just below the shoulder blade. She had an ink mark like a cross with four triangles each representing each of the elements."

"I think I'd know if I had a tattoo," Liz said. She smiled. "I've considered getting one, but that wouldn't be my first choice."

"I think you're fine the way you are," Merlin told her.

"That's what Byron always says." She frowned. "Why is everyone so insistent that I'm already perfect the way I am?"

"Because you are," Merlin told her. She just stared at him, eyes searching his.

Finally she said, "Maybe I'm not the girl you think I am," and walked away.


	5. Morgan Le Fay

**-Five-**

 **Morgan Le Fay**

It rained again that night, beating a steady tempo on the roof of Liz's flat. She sat staring out the window blankly, a hollow ache filling her insides. Merlin had left the pub shortly after their conversation, and she hadn't been able to stop thinking about him ever since. She'd even looked at her back in her bathroom mirror, searching the left shoulder for any sign of a marking. There had been none, and she went back to doubting. Merlin didn't _seem_ crazy, but she wasn't quite sure what he wanted from her.

His unerring knowledge of Camelot matched only that of an Arthurian scholar. Some of the questions had been obscure, but he'd answered them without hesitation as if he'd been there. She shook her head. _That_ was crazy. His name was coincidence enough and her name too apparently.

Amaryllis d' Andreli had been a _knight_. It had to be some distant relative of hers. There was no way she was some reincarnation of her. No way. Things like that just didn't happen. Then why did she feel so lost? So conflicted? It was as if her mind was telling her that what Merlin said made sense. But it didn't. She was Liz Andreli. She worked at a pub and drew in her spare time. There was no way she had once been a knight of Camelot. What if Merlin had tampered with the question card? Liz shook that thought from her head almost at once. He wouldn't have even had access to the cards. Garret kept those cards in his office locked in a drawer and only took them out right before trivia night started. He'd used the same cards for years, but she didn't remember that question. Unless Merlin _had_ tampered with the card. Just not in the way you might think. What did that even mean though? Liz shook her head. She needed a long, hot shower. Maybe _then_ her brain would start thinking clearly.

…

Morgan was late. She was running behind schedule and it was raining _again_. She had gotten the times mixed up and had thought that the driver was coming for her at eight, not seven. Traffic in London had been unbearable even at that early hour, and then one of the back roads they'd taken had been closed due to a fallen tree. White Castle wasn't _that_ small of a town, but getting there was not proving to be an easy feat.

The black sedan pulled onto another road after taking a long detour, this one pointing toward a small town called Ealdor. It advertised Camelot attractions and was clearly a tourist town.

"Are you sure this was the way?" she asked her driver. He nodded wordlessly, and she slumped back in her seat, swiping a finger across her iphone screen and checking the time. It was 10:00 in the morning, and she already needed a pick me up.

"Stop at the nearest pub," she told the driver. "I want to get something to eat before we continue on." She'd skipped breakfast thinking that they would have reached White Castle already, but the detour had taken much longer than expected, and she was famished.

The driver nodded wordlessly again, and Morgan sighed. She'd taken on this modeling job because she needed the money. A.V.A.L.O.N. Agency was unknown to her, but their website had praised them to no end with testimonials from models who had been hired by well-known companies. Morgan hadn't yet met anyone from the agency, but she'd received a phone call a few days before asking her to come up to White Castle for a photo shoot. They'd seen a few of her pictures and thought she was exactly what they were looking for. Morgan hadn't questioned them.

Ealdor was a neat little town, but too small for Morgan's taste. She'd spent the last six years of her life in London, trying to make a go of her modeling. She wasn't used to this quiet, serene atmosphere.

Her driver pulled up in front of a small pub called The White Dragon. Morgan smiled at the image of a little white dragon on the sign. "I'll just be a minute," she told the driver, opening the door and setting her heel-clad shoes on the pavement. They clicked as she walked, and she realized how out of place she looked among the down-to-earth locals and colorful tourists. Her black designer dress and expensive handbag looked alien compared to the jeans and shoulder bags. She entered the pub, going up to the counter and taking a seat.

A girl with long, honey blonde hair and a nose piercing greeted her with a smile. "Nice ring," Morgan said with a smile. It gave the girl a rebellious look that was nicely complemented by the strip of blue in her blonde hair.

"Thanks. All my friends hate it."

"Well, I like it," Morgan said. "Never mind what people think. I've always thought you should do what you like."

"What can I get you?" the girl asked.

"Just something to eat and perhaps some white wine." She had always tried to be sophisticated and drinking white wine seemed to make people think she was.

"You're not from around here," the girl said, pulling a menu out of her waist-apron. "Ireland, is it?" she commented on Morgan's accent.

"Originally. I've been living in London for the last six years though." She scanned the menu, finally picking a Caesar salad. "I'm up here for a modeling job. Well, I'm on route to White Castle. Have you been?"

"Yeah. Whenever I want to get away from the tourists, I head there. They still flock there, but at least it's big enough to avoid them for a block or two."

Morgan laughed. She liked this girl's spunk. "Between you and me, this whole Camelot thing seems a little silly," she said, leaning forward conspiratorially. "It's ancient history."

"I couldn't agree more," the girl said. "I'm Liz by the way." She held out a hand.

"Morgan." Morgan shook the girl's hand.

"I'll get that salad and wine out to you," Liz said.

Morgan looked around the pub in her absence, taking in the fake Excalibur on the wall above the bar. Clearly this town went the extra mile to show off its fetish. She wondered if they hosted reenactments. Probably. Morgan smiled to herself, twisting her glossy black hair around her left fingers while scrolling through her iphone with her right pointer finger. If only this dratted rain would let up. The forecast read rain more times than she wanted to count, and it was getting her down.

Liz set a plate heaped with salad greens in front of her and then a goblet of wine. Morgan smiled gratefully. "I can't believe how starving I am," she said. "Sometimes I wish I could just eat a steak, but I doubt my agency would approve of that."

Liz laughed. "Probably not, but I've always thought you should do what you like."

Morgan smirked. She liked this girl a lot. She reminded her of herself. "Never said a truer word."

"What kind of modeling do you do?"

"Oh, you know, an advertisement here and there. Sometimes I model a certain brand of clothing, but mainly its adverts for perfume or shampoo." She made a face. "It's not much, but it pays the bills. Sometimes."

They chatted while Morgan ate. The pub was mostly empty, and no one bothered them. Liz was interesting and told her about the area and how she'd come to live there.

"Sometimes I get the feeling I was meant to be somewhere else though, you know? Or rather, that's how I felt before I came here and now I can't seem to figure out why I'm here. Does that make sense?"

Morgan nodded. "That makes perfect sense. I feel the same way. I'm still not sure where I'm meant to be. But," she checked her phone, "I do have an appointment for noon, so I'd better be off." It was going on 10:45, and she didn't know how long the drive would take.

She reached into her purse for her wallet. "It's on me," Liz said, holding up a hand in protest.

"Oh, I couldn't."

"Pay me back when you come around to visit again," Liz said. "Seriously, you have no idea how bored I get here. An interesting conversation was payment enough."

"That's kind of you." Morgan smiled, genuinely touched by the gesture. "I haven't seen too many kind turns in the last few years."

"Then I'm glad that you stopped in here. Good luck with your job."

"Thank you. I'll be back."

When she left the pub, Morgan saw that her driver was waiting beside the car. He wordlessly opened the door for her and she got in. "Any idea how long of a drive it is to White Castle?" she asked.

The driver revved the engine. "About half an hour," he replied. The engine spluttered and died.

"What on earth is wrong with this car?" Morgan asked as the driver tried it again. The car continued to wheeze.

"The engine won't start," the driver said.

"I can see that. What's wrong with it?" she asked impatiently.

"I'm not sure. I'll check under the hood." He pulled a lever to pop the hood and exited the car. Morgan watched impatiently as he pushed the hood up and began to rifle around. She got out of the car and leaned up against the passenger door, watching him work and trying to ignore the rain.

"Can you get in and try the engine?" he asked. Morgan stared at him. " _Please_ ," he added irritably.

Morgan sniffed, getting into the driver's side and turning the key. The engine whined but wouldn't start. "No good," she called. She got out again.

"The battery is dead," the driver said.

"What? How?" she asked indignantly, glaring at the car as if it was its fault. Which, of course, it sort of was.

"It happens."

"Well then I need to call a taxi because I'm going to be late." As she spoke, thunder rumbled overhead and it began to shower. "Oh, fantastic." Morgan stepped back so that she was under the shelter of the pub's awning. The driver shut the hood to keep the engine from getting any wetter. He joined her.

"The only bus in town leaves at noon," he said. "No taxis."

"That will be too late."

"I'm sure if you call the agency, they'll understand." He had been sent by them to pick her up, fancy car and everything. So much for their charity.

"You think I should just call and cancel?"

"This storm isn't going to let up. All the locals will tell you it's best to stay off the roads."

Morgan sighed. Her make up and hair and clothes were ruined anyway. Not that they couldn't be redone, but she wanted to make a good first impression.

"Is something wrong?" Liz had come out of the pub.

"The car won't start and now it's raining," Morgan said woefully. " _He_ thinks I should cancel my appointment."

Liz looked over at the driver as if sizing him up. "Well, the roads do get pretty slick when it rains like this." She pulled out her phone and scanned something. "They actually just closed the only road out of here. A tree fell over the bridge. Looks like you're stuck here for awhile."

"Fantastic." Morgan dialed up the agency. A crisp voice answered. "This is Morgan le Fay. I had an appointment at noon today, but I'm stuck in this little town…Ealdor. Apparently the bridge is down, so I have no way to get to White Castle." The woman asked about her driver. "The car stopped working as well. The battery is dead apparently." The woman more than understood. They could reschedule for next week. Morgan hung up. Great. Now she was stuck in this little tourist town with no way out and nowhere to stay.

"So it looks like you're going to be needing a place to stay for the night," Liz said.

"I spent my last paycheck on this outfit so I could be presentable for this job," Morgan lamented. "I don't think I can afford a hotel room for a night let alone an indefinite amount of time. How quickly do you think the bridge will be repaired?"

"It depends on the storm and how soon they can get a crew out there. Listen, if you need a place to stay, I have a flat on the other side of town. It's not much, but I have a couch and plenty of food to share."

Morgan looked at her in surprise. "Oh, I couldn't impose," she said.

"It wouldn't be imposing. Really. I could use the company."

"All right," Morgan agreed. "I will be forever in your debt – you're a life saver."

"Well, apparently I was a knight in a past life," Liz said, frowning.

"What?"

"Oh, never mind. It's just something someone told me." She waved her hand. "I'll go talk to Byron, the landlord's son and see if I can get off early. No one's going to be out in this weather. I don't have a car, but I have an extra wide umbrella."

"All right. If you're sure." She turned back to the driver who surveyed her without expression. "Is there somewhere you can stay?" she asked.

"It won't be a problem," he said. Somehow he'd managed to take her suitcase out of the trunk. She hadn't seen him do that.

Morgan decided that he was on the creepy side. She grabbed her suitcase and turned back to Liz. "Well then, where's this umbrella?"

"In the back." Liz held the door open for her. "I'll be right back." She left Morgan in the doorway, glad of the temporary warmth. Liz returned in a minute to say that she was free to leave. She waved a black umbrella before Morgan. It had white polka dots spattered across the top. "Ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." They left the pub and Liz slid her umbrella open. "Wait a minute." Morgan stared at the spot where the black sedan had just been parked. "The car!" she cried out to Liz. "It's gone. The driver is gone too!" She'd been tricked! But why?


	6. Old Friends

**-Six-**

 **Old Friends**

"She's returned?"

"Yes, Sire." Lancelot surveyed his employer, trying to fathom just how he felt about this latest update. He'd seen Morgana in Ealdor, and she'd been with Ryll.

"Does she know who she is?"

"I don't think so. She and Ryll hit it off right away, but they didn't mention anything from their pasts."

"Do you think there's a chance she might be different this time?" The king's voice ached with longing.

"It's possible," Lancelot answered carefully. His last encounter with Morgana had not been a happy one. She'd raised him again as a wraith and sent him to break Arthur and Gwen apart. When the plan had failed, she'd had him kill himself, forever marring the memory of his character. Merlin had set him free and he had died in peace.

"Do you think she'd remember me?" the king asked slowly, unsurely.

Lancelot hesitated. Did he want an answer or was he just thinking aloud? "Perhaps…"

"I am her father, but I know I messed up before. This is a second chance. I can raise her right. I can help her overcome whatever evil invades her mind."

"She has magic, my Lord. There's nothing you can do about that."

"I can make sure she doesn't fall into the wrong hands," the king said sharply.

"Yes, Sire."

"Any word on Arthur?"

"He still hasn't been found, my Lord."

"Double your efforts. I want him found. Keep watch on Morgana. If she starts remembering, bring her to me immediately."

"Yes, Sire."

"It's time that the Pendragon family was reunited," Uther Pendragon said.

…

The trip to Liz's flat was wet and cold. She and Morgan huddled under the umbrella, trying to coordinate their steps so that they both stayed dry. Morgan's steps were hindered by her high heels which were not meant for such weather. She cursed them frequently, and Liz had to hide a smile. They balanced the suitcase between them, trying to keep it dry too. It was heavy, and Liz wondered if Morgan had packed everything she owned.

"It's not far now," she said. They passed by the Avalon Inn, and Morgan paused.

"Avalon. I never stopped to wonder if the agency stood for something more. If it was just coincidence or if they were named after the legendary place."

"They probably just wanted to fit in. White Castle is decidedly Camelot themed too. It's just a little bit higher class. The supposed ruins of Camelot are close by."

"Who is that?" Morgan asked suddenly.

"Who?" Liz followed her gaze and saw a boy leaving one of the rooms. It was Merlin. He must be staying at the inn, she realized.

"Oh, that's Merlin. He's…well, an acquaintance, I suppose," Liz said.

"He looks so familiar," Morgan said, her voice dreamy. "Like I know him from somewhere… A dream. Maybe. I'm not sure." She shook her head. "I'm being silly."

"He does look familiar though, you're right," Liz said. It struck her as he stood in the rain, looking back at them as if he'd just noticed their presence. When his eyes landed on Morgan, they widened audibly. He looked at Liz, mouth slightly agape. She blinked and suddenly she saw something entirely different.

 _She stood in the rain, ignoring the cold drips that ran down the back of her dress for it was a dress that she wore. It was deep blue with silver trimming. The fabric was fine, but she didn't move to seek shelter. A figure walked toward her, equally wet. His dark hair hung limply around his head and his blue eyes seemed to shine even brighter in the rain. She felt her heart give a jolt. She was happy to see him, she…she_ loved _him. She took a step forward to meet him and his arms circled around her. She buried her head in his wet tunic. When she pulled away, she looked up into his eyes, so blue and innocent. It was Merlin._

The vision faded, and Liz found herself standing on the street, staring back at the same boy she'd just envisioned. "I…" She looked around, but Morgan was still watching Merlin, unaware that Liz had just fazed out. "I'm cold, let's go," she said numbly.

Morgan tore her gaze away from Merlin, following Liz quietly. She kept looking back, her expression confused. "I could have sworn I had a dream about him," she said softly. "I must be mistaken though."

"I'm sure it was just someone who looked like him," Ryll tried to assure her, but she wasn't sure herself anymore.

She unlocked her flat and closed the umbrella, shaking it outside before shutting the door after them. Owl meowed at once, trotting up. She wound her way around Morgan's ankles. "I hope you like cats," Liz said, watching as Morgan bent down to pet the cat.

"I love all animals," she said. "I'm not allowed to have one in my flat back in London."

"Make yourself at home. If you want to dry off and change, you're welcome to shower. The bathroom is down the hall and to the right. I'll just change in my room and put on the kettle."

"Thank you. A shower sounds wonderful." Morgan dragged her suitcase down the hall and clicked the bathroom door shut after her. Liz changed into a worn pair of jeans and a soft T-shirt before wrapping herself in a sweater and shoving her feet into dry socks and fuzzy slippers.

She filled the kettle with fresh water and turned on the stove. She heard the shower turn on in the other room. How odd it felt to be sharing her apartment with a stranger, and yet Morgan didn't feel like a stranger. Liz felt as if she'd known her her whole life. But they'd just met. How was that possible?

Owl begged for treats, and Liz acquiesced, contemplating all the new people she'd met in the last few days. First there had been the dark-haired stranger who had called her Ryll. Then there was Merlin who seemed to think she was a reincarnated knight of Camelot also named Ryll. Then Morgan had turned up and thought Merlin looked familiar. And at that same moment, Liz had had that… _vision_ of her and Merlin. It couldn't all be a coincidence. She didn't believe in coincidences.

"I don't know anymore, Owl," she said. "Who am I?"

Owl just meowed and began to lick her tail.

…

Merlin ran a towel over his wet hair, standing at the window of his room. He had seen Morgana today, and she had been with Ryll. It couldn't be coincidence that everyone was suddenly showing up in Ealdor. It was like they'd been drawn here. Something was calling them, and so far three had answered. Would it be too much to hope that Arthur was going to walk right into town any moment now?

Merlin shut his eyes for a moment, remembering the few seconds when he had been standing in the rain and Morgana had looked at him like she knew him and then Ryll's eyes had gone unfocused. When she'd come to, she'd looked at him like she'd remembered something. Were her memories coming back? He longed for her to remember him. It was so difficult having to keep his distance when all he wanted to do was draw her into his arms.

If she _was_ beginning to remember, then perhaps not all was lost. Obviously she and Morgana had hit it off instantly in this life as well as the last. Merlin had felt a jolt when he'd first seen Morgana. Would she be different in this life? She might have gained Arthur's forgiveness in the end, but anything could happen now. Merlin wasn't sure who had come back. Would Uther be in this life or Morgause? Who were the players in this elaborate game of fate? This was a second chance for all of them. Maybe he could reach out to her sooner. He'd often regretted this. If he'd told her early on that he'd had magic, if he'd helped her…would she have turned out any differently? He remembered well a time when her compassion for those less fortunate than her had been her driving motivation. She'd been the first to volunteer to help him defend Ealdor when thugs had come to steal crops and harass the people. Would this Morgana remember that? Her hatred for Uther had been strong enough to turn her into someone surprisingly similar to the king. In the end Ryll had brought her back, but the scars couldn't be erased. Nothing was ever the same as it had been before. Morgana hadn't stayed long in the castle before finding a house on the outskirts of Camelot with Aithusa under Arthur's sworn protection. Merlin hadn't seen much of her after that, but then again the memories had been too painful. He'd grown much quieter after Ryll's death. A joke was rare, and he had always felt the weight of her absence.

Perhaps Morgana would make better choices in this life. Merlin wasn't sure how the prophecy worked. He wasn't sure if everyone would come back or just a few. His thoughts went to Gaius… How he missed the physician's comforting words and stern advice. What would Gaius say if he were here now? He'd probably tell Merlin not to meddle. Merlin grinned at this thought. It hurt to think he might never see Gaius again. Gaius had been both a friend and a father to him. Sometimes, even though Merlin had lived so many years, he still longed for some fatherly advice.

He put down the towel and sat down, trying to figure out his next move. Ryll had seemed shocked when she had heard the answer to the last trivia question the night before. Merlin had used his magic to manipulate the card to read that specific question, hoping that upon hearing the answer, Ryll might remember something. She'd seemed alarmed, however, and he hadn't seen any spark of remembrance. He was running out of ideas for sparking her memory. Becoming a knight was the greatest thing that ever happened to her, but even that seemed to spark no recognition. She probably thought he was crazy. He was getting tired of destinies and vague prophecies. Why couldn't everything just be clear? It was like trying to get a straight answer out of the great dragon. It just didn't happen.

Maybe he needed to start at the root of all this. They had all been drawn to Ealdor, so maybe he needed to learn more about the town and its history. He sighed. Maybe it was time to visit the Camelot Museum.

…

The kettle was whistling from the kitchen as Morgan left the steamy bathroom, her rose-colored robe wrapped snuggly around her. Her dark hair cascaded down her back in damp curls.

"How do you take your tea?" Liz asked, turning off the burner and getting two mismatched mugs out of the cupboard.

"Just black," Morgan said. "Unless you have some herbal tea. I have trouble sleeping, so I usually try to drink something soothing in the afternoon and at night."

"I think I have something." Liz pulled out a box of peppermint. "I also have some Sleepy Time tea for later."

"That's perfect."

Liz poured two cups of peppermint. "I hate rainy days like this. Usually Ealdor is much sunnier, but it is storm season."

Morgan looked around the flat, noting the different sketches that were framed on the walls. Another half-finished one sat on an easel. "These are beautiful. Did you draw them?" she asked. Some looked to be done in charcoal while others were spattered with watercolors. A few were done in ink and were artfully spattered. All of them were hauntingly beautiful.

"Oh, yeah. In my spare time, I've taken to sketching out places from my dreams. I'm actually thinking about changing my major to art."

"You're going to university?"

"Well, the community college in White Castle. It's not Oxford, but it'll do."

"That's wonderful. I always wanted to go to university. My life just went in a different direction." She looked more closely at the framed sketch above the couch. It was of a decrepit temple with missing bits of stone. Trees shaded the building and crouched in around it like they were protecting it.

"How did you get into modeling?" Liz asked. Her voice seemed far away. Morgan couldn't shake the feeling that she knew this building. "Morgan?"

"I know this place," she whispered.

"What was that?" Liz was staring at her, her eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Oh, nothing." Morgan shook her head and then turned to look at Liz. "What were you asking?"

"I was just wondering how you got into modeling," she repeated.

"I'd always really admired the fashions of Victorian and medieval times," Morgan told her. "I thought, how amazing would it be to dress up like that? I used to have this book of medieval paintings when I was a child. I wished I could be like those women – so elegant and poised. So I started taking modeling classes. I learned to be elegant and poised. I'm still not wearing beautiful dresses like that, but I'm hoping that will change with this new agency. I'm not so sure now."

"That _was_ odd how the driver and the car just seemed to disappear. Kind of like an enchantment or something." Liz laughed nervously. "I'm not sure why I said that," she added, looking confused. She turned back to the kitchen to tend the teas.

Morgan kept looking at the ink drawing of the temple wondering how she knew the building. She felt lonely when she looked at the picture as if it was somewhere she didn't want to be.

"Here you go." Liz was holding out a steaming mug of peppermint tea. Morgan took it gratefully and sat down on the couch, turning her back on the picture. The painting across from her caught her eye even more. It sat propped up against the wall as if Liz had run out of places to hang her artwork.

"Where is that?" she asked softly. It was of a castle. A very familiar looking castle and yet she couldn't remember ever seeing a castle that looked like that.

"Oh…I'm not sure. Nowhere as far as I know. It's just something I keep dreaming about. There's this castle, and I think it's my home. I mean, in my dream it is."

"That's funny," Morgan said quietly, "because I've dreamt about the very same castle."


	7. History Buff

**-Seven-**

 **History Buff**

Merlin sighed, trying to hide his boredom as he followed the tour group around the Camelot Museum. The tour guide was boring to put it lightly and half the stuff he said wasn't accurate. Merlin itched to correct him, but contented himself with only doing so in his head. Nothing really pertained to Ealdor until they came to the last exhibit.

"Ealdor was founded in 1890," the tour guide said to the group. "It started out as a fishing village, but soon more settlers began to arrive believing the town to be located near the ruins of Camelot. White Castle was built in the 1930s and so everything there is relatively new although much of the original architecture still stands. Ealdor continued to grow until it became the thriving city it is today. In fact, it is the fastest growing tourist town in England with a population of 11,220."

"Who founded the city?" one of the tourists asked.

"Well, the city's founder was one William Monmouth. He came to the city after the original settlers had arrived. He was the one who named the city and turned it into a community. William Monmouth supposedly came to this place because of its proximity to the ruins of Camelot. He told everyone that he was waiting for the second coming of King Arthur. He believed that this was where he was going to rise again."

Merlin looked up at this, his interest piqued. Finally, something useful.

"His memorial can be seen at the center of Ealdor Cemetery. It faces the sea so that he may continue watching even in death."

"Did he say anything more about Arthur's second coming?" Merlin asked.

"Yes. There is a journal that gives his full accounts," he motioned to a weathered journal in a glass case, "but you can also look them up in our online archives. He was heard to say that King Arthur would rise when Pegasus's eye fell on a Midsummer's Eve."

Merlin's heart skipped a beat. "Any relation to Geoffrey of Monmouth?" he asked.

"Why, yes. He was the great, great, great, great – well, you get the picture – grandnephew of Geoffrey of Monmouth, who, if you don't know, was the official genealogist of the Pendragon family. He wrote many accounts of Camelot which can now be found in the British Museum."

Merlin contemplated what he had learned. He wasn't the only one who had been waiting for Arthur. "Do the legends say anything about Merlin?" he asked.

"Yes. Merlin was supposedly immortal and was destined to help Arthur gain his kingdom. After the tragedy that befell the kingdom – I speak of course about the great affair between Sir Lancelot du Lac and Queen Guinevere and the subsequent deaths – Merlin was said to have disappeared. He was said to be waiting for King Arthur to return again."

Well, good to know he had that part right. The rest was, of course, bogus. Gwen had been enchanted to fall for the wraith Lancelot and that had all been sorted out. Merlin kept this to himself.

"Was there ever any mention of how Arthur was going to come back besides the constellation bit?" he asked.

"Well, there are many different versions, but the most popular one states that Arthur will only return once his sword is returned to him – the legendary Excalibur which he pulled from the stone. Once his sword is returned to him, he will awaken and defeat whatever evil plagues the lands."

"So he needs his sword to awaken?"

"Correct. There are, again, many different legends about what happened to the sword after Arthur died. Some say it was put back into the stone, other say it was with him when he died, and still more say that the sword was thrown into the legendary Lake Avalon."

Merlin had no idea where the sword was now. Arthur had been laid to rest with it, his body sent off into the mists of Lake Avalon. Merlin wouldn't know if it was there until he crossed Avalon, and he needed Ryll for that. If only there was a way to make her remember. Magic? No, something told him that it couldn't be forced. He sighed as the tour guide finished up his speech. He had been waiting 900 years for this. Now, after all that, it seemed as if he was going to have to wait a little longer.

…

The pale morning light washed over the island, caressing the broken stones of the tower and sliding across a figure that lay deathly still on a stone platform. His blonde hair was lit up by the sunlight, the color of sun-kissed wheat. His face was pale, eyes shut. His hands were laid across his chest, over his gleaming silver mail and armor. The only thing that was missing was his sword. He lay perfectly still and as a sparrow alighted on his shoulder, pecking at his armor to see if any food was to be found, it noticed the slight breathing of the creature. It was alive, but it didn't move. The sparrow hopped across the man's chest, warily watching his face. Nothing happened. Deciding that there was no food to be had, the little sparrow took off, leaving the breathing, sleeping man be. Little did it know just how important this man was. To him it was just another odd creature to avoid.

…

"All right, if we're going to talk ridiculous names, let's go with Amaryllis," Liz said as she and Morgan sat in her living room, chatting away. They'd been sharing childhood stories, and Morgan had told her about the nanny she'd had named Gertrude. Ever since they'd realized that they'd dreamt of the same castle, they'd been trying to seek some connection, but so far they'd drawn a blank.

"That's pretty though. Isn't that a flower?" Morgan asked.

"Yeah, well, I don't like flower names," Liz said. "Though it's funny, I've had two people asking for someone named Ryll. That's an odd name, or nickname. Merlin was one and the other was some tall, dark stranger."

"Aren't those the best kind?"

Liz laughed. "They both thought I was her though. Merlin said her full name was Amaryllis too. Isn't that just odd that two people would be looking for a Ryll and think I was her?"

"That is odd." Morgan frowned. "And you have no idea who the tall, dark stranger was?"

"No. He looked vaguely familiar, but I don't know him."

"And Merlin? By the way, wasn't he the wizard who supposedly lived in King Arthur's time? Is he one of these Camelot fanatics?"

Liz smiled at that. "Well, he does know a lot about Camelot. He's not from here though. He came here looking for Ryll who was supposedly his girlfriend. She died though, so I have no idea why he thought she was here. Nothing he said made any sense and yet…" She paused as if trying to figure out how to phrase her thoughts.

"And yet everything still seemed like it fit into some sort of puzzle that you can't quite piece together?"

"Yeah, exactly like that," Liz said, looking at Morgan in surprise. "You feel the same way too?"

"It's strange. I feel as if I should remember something, something important, but I can't." She frowned, glancing back at the picture behind her.

"You keep looking at that one. Do you know where it is?"

Morgan shook her head. "I keep getting the feeling that I've been there though. Perhaps only in a dream." Truth be told, Morgan had been dreaming of places like this all her life, ever since she was a little child. At first she'd assumed she'd gotten them from storybooks, but she could never find the pictures. Then as she'd grown older, her dreams had gotten more vivid. Sometimes they even came true. She'd never told anyone this before. She was afraid that they'd mark her as insane and throw her in an asylum. She wasn't quite ready to tell Liz. It was funny how they'd just met that day and yet they were chatting like old friends. It seemed so natural and not at all awkward like a conversation with a stranger might be. There were a lot of strange things going on lately, and Liz seemed to be going through a similar experience. There was strength in numbers, as the saying went. Morgan was just glad to have someone to talk to.

"Speaking of names, I heard you say your full name over the phone. Morgan le Fay? Isn't she from the Arthurian legends too?"

"My real last name is Faye. F-A-Y-E, but I changed it when I went into modeling. I wanted something that stood out, and that was the first thing that came to mind. I think the real Morgan le Fay was pure evil, but it stuck."

"She wasn't always evil," Liz said. Her eyes had that far away look to them again – Morgan had seen it a few times already like when Liz had been looking at Merlin earlier in the rain. Then she shook her head. "I mean, she might not have been. I have no idea."

"I think that all good villains have to start somewhere. If there's something about them that people can find compassion about, then it makes them a much more believable villain. No one is pure evil," Morgan said.

"You're right. It's the decisions we make that define good and evil, not who we are."

"Is that a quote from something?" Those words sounded so familiar and yet Morgan couldn't place them.

"Probably." Liz blinked. "That just kind of came out of nowhere." They laughed. "Maybe we've been talking too much history. What about your mysterious vanishing driver? That sounds like a Sherlock Holmes mystery or something."

"I swear the car wouldn't start. I tried it myself. He said the battery was dead." Morgan frowned. The battery wouldn't have just started working again if it was dead.

"Could the driver have unplugged something? While you were in the pub?" Liz asked.

"I suppose, but why would he do that?"

"I'm not sure but cars and drivers don't just vanish. Maybe…." She looked thoughtful. "Maybe you were meant to come here."

"Like destiny?" Morgan laughed. She'd given up believing in such a thing.

Liz laughed a little at herself. "You're right, that sounds silly," she said. "Destinies are a thing of fairy tales, not reality."

…

 _Morgan was standing over the body of a man whose eyes were wide open in death, reflecting the trees above. There was distaste in her mouth, and she looked up at the men standing around her. "That is what happens to those who give false evidence," she spat. "Find me Emrys!"_

 _The men nodded, and she noted with some satisfaction the fear in their eyes. "Yes, my Lady Morgana," one of them said with a bow. They moved off, and Morgan – Morgana – walked away from the body. She was wearing a black dress and her hair hung in tangled waves. Morgan wanted to be horrified at her appearance, but the emptiness inside of her negated any complaints she had. She was alone, and her life's mission had failed time and time again. Though she was no closer to finding Emrys, her life's fate seemed to be looming ever closer. The words of the Cailleach echoed in her head: he is your destiny and your doom. Morgana had worked too hard to be thwarted by some new magician who played at having powers like her. Morgana would find him and make sure_ she _was_ his _doom._

 _The scene shifted and now Morgana was standing in a dim hovel, dressed much the same but thinner and more desperate. A boy with green eyes stood beside her looking down at a prone figure. The figure lay on a small, rickety cot. Morgana moved forward to look at her more closely. She had long, honey colored hair and perfectly pale skin. The girl opened her bright blue eyes and looked straight at Morgana._

" _Morgana," she said softly, and Morgana could see the regret and sorrow in her eyes._

" _Ryll." She quenched all emotion in her voice as she spoke though her heart leapt at the sight of her old friend._

" _Why have you brought me here?" the girl named Ryll asked._

" _To ask you something important," Morgana said, her eyes glinting. "To ask you who Emrys is."_

Morgan woke up with a start, breathing hard. This was a new dream. It must have been all that talk about Morgan le Fay. And that girl… The details were starting to fade, and she grasped at it, trying to keep everything in her mind. She had been standing over a body, speaking of someone named Emrys. She'd wanted him dead… And then she'd been asking a girl about Emrys – Ryll who looked exactly like Liz. They'd been friends before…whatever had gotten in the way.

Morgan shook her head. It was just a dream. She shouldn't think anything of it. She lay back down but sleep eluded her. Instead she sat up again, turning on the lamp next to her. Liz had offered her the bed, but Morgan had protested. The couch was fine, and she wouldn't deprive Liz of her own room. Her suitcase sat next to her and she unzipped the outer pocket and pulled out a tattered book. _Famous Women of History_ the cover read. It had been her mother's, and Morgan had rifled through the pages more times than she could count, wishing she could be among them. She flipped it open to the page on medieval times and saw Guinevere's name. She read: _Guinevere was married to King Arthur and was queen of Camelot. She was a benevolent queen and treated her people fairly. She was also in love with King Arthur's most trusted knight, Sir Lancelot du Lac. When her affair with Sir Lancelot was discovered, King Arthur suffered a mental collapse and Camelot soon fell into ruin after a procession of deaths._

Okay, that was depressing. On the next page, Morgan saw her own name listed. Morgan le Fay: _A dark sorceress who lived during King Arthur's time and was, in fact, his half-sister. Morgan le Fay aspired to become queen of Camelot, believing it to be her blood right. She was aligned with Sir Mordred who eventually killed Arthur on the battlefield. Morgan le Fay was killed by the sorcerer Merlin who wielded Excalibur against her._

Another depressing end. Morgan flipped the page. And gasped.

Amaryllis d' Andreli, the page read. It depicted a girl with long, golden tresses and bright blue eyes. She was dressed like a knight of Camelot with silver armor and a red cloak and held a bow in one hand and a glowing rock in the other. She read the description. _Amaryllis d' Andreli was the daughter of Sir Thomas d' Andreli, knight of Camelot. She was orphaned at a young age and fended for herself for much of her life. Not much is known about her past or how she came to Camelot, however, it is known that she became the first female knight of Camelot. She was highly skilled with both the sword and the bow and was an excellent horsewoman. She was rumored to have been in love with the sorcerer Merlin, but few records show this connection. It was a known fact that she was good friends with Morgan le Fay and quite possibly possessed a magic of her own. Some legends tell of her sacrificing her life to save Arthur's while others do not mention her at all. It is possible that she was created by women during the oppressive ages as an uplifting story of feminine empowerment._

Morgan stared down at the page. This was _too much_ of a coincidence. She organized the facts in her mind. Liz had come to Ealdor because she had received a flyer advertising the town and according to her, Merlin had received the same flyer. Morgan had been stranded here by a mysterious vanishing driver. They'd all ended up here in Ealdor. That had to mean something.

Merlin and the dark stranger had both called Liz Ryll, which, now that Morgan looked at the full name Amaryllis, she could see where the nickname had come from. Merlin, firstly was named Merlin, which was odd enough, and knew everything about Camelot. Liz had told her about the pub trivia night and how Merlin had known all the answers about Camelot including information about Amaryllis d' Andreli. He'd tried to tell Liz that she _was_ this same girl, but when Liz had been disbelieving, he'd backed off. Clearly he didn't want to scare her away.

And now Morgan was dreaming about these characters like she _was_ Morgana. That was insane. How could she be one person, die, and come back again? It didn't make sense. But then there were the pictures. Her eyes flitted to the picture of the castled leaned up against the wall. Camelot. It had to be. She remembered it, had dreamt of it…

"Couldn't sleep?"

Morgan jumped as she heard Ryll's – _Liz's_ – voice. "Oh, no. I had a nightmare. And then I was looking at my book of famous historical women and I saw this." She held the book up and Liz came forward to look at it. As soon as she read the name, her eyes widened.

"That's me," she said softly. "I mean…it can't be."

"Do you remember anything of your past?" Morgan asked. "I mean, you know you have parents and a hometown, but do you really _remember_ being there?"

Liz sat down in the chair next to Morgan. She was quiet for a long moment. "You know, I have all these memories of family outings and growing up in Wales, but then there's this empty feeling like I never really lived them. The only thing that feels real is the last three years and living in Ealdor."

"Me too. Three years. I remember taking modeling classes and growing up in Ireland but I can't actually remember being there. It's like there are all these memories that were put in my head, but they're not really mine. Like I just woke up three years ago."

Liz stared at her. "This sounds insane."

"I know it does."

"What do we do?"

Morgan thought for a minute. "You know who's at the start of all this?"

"Who?"

"Merlin. He's in the legends and he's in this town right now. He's the one with the answers. We just need to be willing to hear them."


	8. The Second Coming

**-Eight-**

 **The Second Coming**

Merlin heard a knock on his hotel door first thing in the morning. He opened the door to find Ryll and Morgana standing there looking unsure of themselves.

"Hi," Ryll said. Merlin's heart leapt when she spoke just like any time she was near him.

"Hi," he returned.

"I know this is kind of strange, but…can we come in?" she asked.

"Yeah, of course." He stepped aside to let them in, stiffening slightly as Morgana passed. If she noticed, she didn't say anything. She hovered next to Ryll as if they were already best friends. It wasn't that Merlin didn't trust this new Morgan, it was just that she was currently a blank slate waiting to tip one way or the other. He hoped she'd tip toward their side at the beginning this time. They'd spent too much time fighting against each other in their last life even if they'd ultimately been on the same side in the end. Ryll's death had pulled them together though at a price Merlin hadn't been willing to pay.

"We have some questions," Ryll started.

"And we're not leaving until we get answers," Morgana put in, looking quite fierce despite the fact that she also looked quite frightened.

"All right, what do you want to know," he asked. Had one of them remembered something? They weren't simple. He knew they'd start to piece things together eventually, especially with their heads put together. Ryll always had been exceedingly clever, and Morgana just as much so.

"Who are you for starters and don't just say a tourist," Ryll said. Her blonde hair came out from behind her ear and fell across her shoulder. Merlin fought back the urge to tuck her it behind her ear. The blue was still vivid against the blonde, but it was growing on him.

"Well, I'm Merlin," he started. "And I live about four hours away from here in a little town called Hunter's Grove. I have a PhD in astrology and medical science as well as medieval history specializing in Arthurian legends."

"So you're more than just a history buff." Ryll rolled her eyes.

"How old are you?" Morgana asked. "You have three PhDs? Did you start college when you were ten?"

"I've been around a long time," he replied warily. He would happily tell them everything, but if they didn't remember who they were, it was going to sound like a lot of nonsense.

"All right. Are you the real Merlin?" Ryll asked. "The one who lived in Camelot and was King Arthur's advisor or magician or whatever." He noticed she was playing with a golden chain around her neck. He couldn't quite make out what was on it.

"Servant."

"What?"

"I was King Arthur's servant. From the time he was a prince."

"You're seriously the real Merlin?" Ryll didn't look like she believed him. He supposed he wouldn't believe him either.

"Yep. I can prove it, but you have to promise not to freak out."

"We're not going anywhere," Morgana said.

"All right. I did warn you." Merlin closed his eyes for a moment and then said an incantation out loud. He didn't need to speak at all anymore to use a spell after so many years of practice, but he thought it would give his magic more credence. "Baerne," he said.

Ryll and Morgana gasped as his eyes glowed amber and a small fire erupted on his palm. He couldn't feel the flames at all. He looked up at them. Morgana was staring at the fire like it might jump out and try to burn her, and Ryll was staring straight at him. His heart gave another jolt. Did she remember?

"You're really a sorcerer," Morgana said. "I didn't know such a person existed." She sat down on the bed, looking overwhelmed.

"Morgana, do you remember who you are at all?" Merlin asked. She jumped when he said her name.

"My name is Morgan," she said, turning frightened eyes on him.

"No, it's Morgana."

"Morgana tried to kill Arthur," Morgana said in a soft voice. "Did I do that?"

It pained Merlin to see her so helpless and scared. "That was a long time ago," he said. "Arthur's coming back."

"I think you need to start from the beginning," Ryll said. Her voice was hard.

Merlin extinguished the fire with a silent spell and pulled one of the chairs away from the table, taking a seat. He motioned for Ryll to sit. She stood for a moment longer and then sat next to Morgan on the bed, taking her hand.

"Who are we?" she asked.

"Let me start from the beginning," Merlin said. "When this all started."

…

He started from the very beginning, telling them how he'd come to Camelot and how he'd saved Arthur's life and, as a reward, been made his servant. He spoke of Morgana and how she had been Uther Pendragon's ward, always arguing against his cruelty toward magic and standing up for what she believed in. He tried to shed a positive light on her. This was her second chance, after all. She had an opportunity to become that same compassionate girl again.

He told them how Ryll had come to the castle after saving Morgana's life and had been mortally wounded. But she'd survived. Merlin hadn't healed her and yet somehow she'd survived. Ryll listened silently as he recounted their adventures with the wraith and how she'd died and come back to life after she'd defeated it.

He spoke of her banishment and her friendship with Lancelot. Then her return to Camelot. He hesitated when he came to the part in his tale when Morgana started to change. "Morgana, I want you to know that what you did in the past does not define who you are now," Merlin said to her, pausing his story for a moment.

She looked frightened. "That's not very reassuring," she said. "No girl likes to hear she's the villain."

"You're not. Not yet. Not ever, I hope." He told her how she'd grown to hate Uther and his reign of terror against all people with magic, how she'd had to hide her own gift, fearing his wrath, how she'd met Morgause and had turned against everyone in Camelot. Her eyes glistened with tears when he told her of her reign as queen after driving Arthur from the castle and casting Uther into the dungeons.

"That's when Arthur knighted Lancelot and the other Knights of the Round Table," he said.

"And me."

He looked at Ryll. "And you," he confirmed. "The first female knight in Camelot."

She smiled. "I like the sound of that," she said before falling silent again.

He worked his way through the year of peace and then their rescue of Morgana. He watched for any reaction as he mentioned King Sarrum, the cruel king who had imprisoned Morgana and the white dragon Aithusa, but neither girl showed any recognition. "He thought there was some sort of key to the future in Camelot," he explained. "He brought an army into Camelot. That was also the day you and Arthur made peace," he told Morgana. "Ryll never gave up on you or Arthur. You fought by their sides. It turned out that Ryll, that you," he said looking straight at her, "were the key. You had the power to change the future. I knew you had elemental magic, that you were powerful, but I didn't realize that you held that great a destiny. You didn't tell me until the end. During the battle, I tried to tell Sarrum that it was me, not you he searched for and he tried to kill me. I guess he thought destroying the key would destroy magic in the future. He shot a black arrow forged from dragon's fire straight at my heart but you jumped in front of me and took the arrow." Ryll's eyes widened. She was playing nervously with the gold chain again, but her hand paused, and Merlin saw the golden object glistening from between her fingers. A ring. Her engagement ring. She still had it. "You died to save me. I'm still alive today because of you." Her blue eyes didn't blink as they stared at each other. Finally Merlin looked down. "Because of you, everyone was able to be reborn. You gave them all a second chance. I've been waiting all these years for you to return to me."

Ryll and Morgana were silent. "Why can't I remember?" Ryll finally asked. "Why can't I remember any of this?"

"I don't know. I wasn't expecting that. I just knew that you and Arthur would come back again. I think I know where Arthur is, but I can't go there without you. I need your magic."

"Hold on!" Ryll held up a hand. "I don't have magic. Even if I did by some crazy chance in some past life, I think I'd know if I had it now."

"Everything's changed," Merlin said. "It seems as if everyone suddenly woke up with no memory of their past life. I don't know who else has woken up. You two and Byron are the only ones I've met so far."

"Byron?" Ryll gave him a sharp look.

"He's a druid. He was your best friend before."

Ryll looked overwhelmed, and he wondered if he'd told them too much in one sitting. If he knew anything about Ryll though it was that she could handle anything thrown her way. He still knew how incredibly crazy this must all sound to her. "So he's forgotten just the same as us?" She looked over at Morgan. "What do you think of all this?" she asked.

"It all sounds crazy but yet somewhere in my head everything is clicking in place as if this has been the answer all along," Morgana answered. "I had a dream last night. I was Morgana and then you were there… I could tell we used to be friends but something had driven us apart. Did I really do all those terrible things?" she asked, turning her eyes to Merlin. She looked like the frightened Morgana who was still learning that she had magic.

"I truly believe you can change. You did before. You were given a second chance for a reason," he told her. "What you did in the past doesn't shape who you are now."

Morgana nodded. "I won't ever use magic," she said. "Not if it corrupts me the way it did before."

"It was your hatred for Uther that corrupted you. Not your magic."

"Then let us hope I never see him again," she said, and Merlin couldn't help but catch the edge of venom to her words. "Let's hope he isn't in this world."

"You said I have elemental magic," Ryll said. "Will you show me how to use it?"

"It's not something I can show you how to do. It comes naturally. Your elemental magic was very strong. Any sorcerer can learn how to use elemental magic with a spell, but it came naturally to you. All you had to do was command any or all of the elements and they obeyed you. Even I had to use a spell most of the time."

Ryll shut her eyes for a moment. "You said that you were in love with Ryll. Is that true?" she asked, opening her eyes to look straight at him.

His heart beat quickly as he answered. "Yes. We were in love."

"How can I not remember that? How can I not remember you?" There was pain in her voice. Merlin felt the same pain.

"I don't know. I guess it's not time yet."

"I believe you, crazy as it all sounds, I believe you, but I don't feel like this is me. I don't feel like Ryll because I can't remember being her. I still feel like Liz." There was desperation in her voice.

"I know. Hopefully in time you'll remember."

"So what now? You said Arthur was coming back. That you needed me to help you find him."

"There was a prophecy that told of Arthur's second coming. When Pegasus's eye falls on a Midsummer's Eve, King Arthur and his savior will rise again."

"Am I his savior?"

"I think so."

"Who else is going to rise again?" she asked.

"Well, so far it's just the three of us."

"What about the man who asked if I was Ryll?"

"I'm not sure who he was, but probably someone from Camelot. What did he look like again?"

"Dark hair, dark eyes, handsome." She shrugged.

"That could describe half the men in Camelot."

"Yeah, thanks. I know."

Merlin mentally kicked himself. She was still Liz, not Ryll. He couldn't joke around with her the way he used to. "Right now I'm concerned about finding Arthur. He should have come back the same time as you and that was three years ago." Ryll and Morgana exchanged a glance at this. "What?"

"Morgan – _Morgana_ – and I were just saying last night now we had memories from our whole lives, but we could only really remember living the last three years."

"That's because that is all the time you've lived."

"But then were did these memories come from? Are you telling me they're false? I don't really have family in Wales?"

"Your family died when you were very young. They lived in Camelot."

Ryll took this in. "How do we find Arthur?"

"I think I know where he is, but I need your help," he said. "I think he's on an island in the middle of Lake Avalon. It's where the Sidhe used to live. You went there once to be healed. You told me that only a Sidhe, or someone with Sidhe blood, and the dead could set foot there. You have Sidhe blood. I can't set foot there without you with me. We also need to find Excalibur for him to wake up."

"That sounds easy enough. Where's Excalibur?"

"That's where it gets hard. I have no idea. When Arthur died, I sent the sword off with him into Avalon, but I don't know if it stayed there."

"It got up and walked away?" Ryll asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Well, according to the prophecy, one who is worthy must first claim it in order to awaken Arthur."

"So Arthur might or might not have it?"

"If he does have it then why hasn't he returned?" Merlin asked.

"Umm, because he's stuck on an island with no boat? Will he have forgotten who he is?" Ryll asked.

"I don't know," Merlin admitted.

"Maybe we need to find Arthur first. He could be sitting on this island, starving and alone for the last three years."

"He'd be really annoyed with me then," Merlin said.

"So just like old times?" Ryll replied with a smirk. For a second Merlin could see the old Ryll.

He smiled back. "Just like old times."


	9. Road Trip

**-Nine-**

 **Road Trip**

They started planning a trip to Avalon that afternoon. Liz was eager despite the fact that she couldn't remember the past Merlin had told her about – it was like hearing about an entirely different person, but somehow she knew it was the truth. The empty feeling had somewhat lifted. She _knew_ that these were the pieces that needed to go back together, but the emptiness wouldn't go away completely until she remembered. She longed to remember being Ryll, but she was still Liz. She was tired of not knowing who she really was. Ryll or Liz, she just wanted to feel _right_. She could see the longing in Merlin's eyes every time he looked at her. He wanted so badly for her to remember, but it was clearly going to take time. Maybe she was crazy for believing him, but Liz could have walked out of that room at any point during the story. She hadn't. All Liz knew was that there was no going back. Something big was missing from her life and helping Merlin was going to help her get that back.

"I don't think I should come," Morgan said. She'd been quiet during their planning, and Liz had figured she was processing what Merlin had told them.

"Why not?" Liz asked, turning to look at her new friend – who was also an old friend, apparently.

"Because we don't know what he'll remember," she said, nervously tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear. "If I'm one of the first people he sees in this life… Well, he might get the wrong idea."

"But Merlin said you and Arthur were on good terms when Ryll – when _I_ died." The words sounded strange on her tongue. She couldn't remember dying. That seemed like the sort of thing you'd remember.

"I know, but I don't know how to act around him after hearing what I did to him." Merlin had been hesitant to share the details of Morgan's past life, but Liz and Morgan had gotten the gist of it and they were familiar with the legends. At one point Arthur and Morgana had been sworn enemies. It was hard to believe, looking at the girl next to her. Morgan looked anything but an evil sorceress dressed in her meticulous outfit and heels. "I'll stay here and see if I can find out more."

"If you're sure," Liz said. She would have felt better with Morgan by her side, but she understood her hesitation.

"I'm sure. You two go and find him. It was meant to be Liz who finds him, I'm sure." Liz wanted to protest, but Merlin spoke before she could.

"Can you get time off at the pub?" Merlin asked her.

"Does it even matter? I mean, I might as well quit because it's looking like I've got a lot bigger destiny than working at a pub," she said realizing just how true that was. There was something terrifying and yet thrilling about the prospect that she was meant for more than wiling away her time in Ealdor cleaning out tankards and manning the taps. "Byron will understand possibly after some arm twisting. Should I tell him anything about his past?" she asked.

"Not yet," Merlin told her. "You can tell him when we get back if you want."

"You said he was a druid before?" Merlin nodded. "So he can do magic."

"Yes. He helped you a lot when you first discovered you had magic."

"Was he at the final battle too?" Liz asked. "Did he see me…die?" She was glad she couldn't remember that.

Merlin hesitated, and she could tell there was something he didn't want to tell her. "No, Byron…he did something…he went and confronted King Sarrum, the one I told you about." Liz nodded. It was not a name she would forget soon. She just hoped he wasn't given a second chance because this world was better off without him. "Sarrum killed him. It was the night before the battle. You were devastated…"

"Oh." Liz couldn't remember of course, but picturing Byron dead was enough to set her heart pounding unpleasantly.

"Are you two…close?" An unasked question lingered on Merlin's lips.

"Not like that. We're just friends." She narrowed her eyes. "Why do you ask? We're we ever something more before?"

"No," he said a little too quickly. "No, though I think he wished you were."

"Well we're not." She gave him a timid smile. She was still getting used to the looks he gave her. She could tell he was trying to rein his feelings in because the truth of the matter was, Liz didn't remember loving him. "I'll just go talk to him then," Liz said, starting to feel awkward. "Shall we leave first thing in the morning?"

"Yeah, I'll drive us. How about seven? We can meet here."

"Sounds good. Morgan can stay in my flat in the mean time and take care of Owl." Liz glanced at Morgan who nodded in agreement.

"Owl?" Merlin asked, looking confused.

"My cat."

"Oh! I was wondering how you were keeping a horse in your flat." At Liz's confused expression, he said, "Owl was your horse before."

"Really? I had a horse?" She grimaced. "Of course I did. Everyone had a horse in Medieval Times. But I picked the same name for my cat? That's kind of freaky."

"It means you do still have some memories even if they're buried deep within your subconscious." Liz thought back to her drawings. Had she been remembering all along? She just hadn't known _what_ exactly she had been remembering. Now the waves of familiarity made sense.

"Hopefully I'll remember the rest because I don't feel like Ryll. I don't feel like the first female knight of Camelot. Wow, that sounds pretentious." She laughed nervously. "I don't feel worthy of meeting King Arthur."

"You were the bravest woman I knew – _know_ ," Merlin told her. "Arthur would never forget what you've done for him. You died so that he could come back again."

Morgan was looking uncomfortable and Liz knew she was thinking about her own role in Camelot. Liz reached out a hand and squeezed hers. "You were brave too," she said. "Remember you fought with Arthur in the end too."

Morgan gave her a hesitant smile. "I know I can make the right choices this time, but you're the hero Liz. That's never going to be my role."

"Maybe this time someone else can be the hero," Liz said softly. "After all, we all came back."

Merlin was looking between the two of them. Then he stepped forward to address Morgan. "You were once my friend," he said. "I believe you can be that person again. You have the chance to be whoever you want to be."

"I want to take that chance," Morgan told him.

She and Liz got up to leave, and Liz felt a little heavier than she had before like something had come to settle on her shoulders. At the same time she felt free too as if the clouds had lifted from her mind. She knew the truth now even if she couldn't remember her life as Ryll. The emptiness had shifted and purpose was beginning to fill that space.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," she told Merlin.

"Tomorrow," Merlin said. "Oh, and lose the nose ring," he added with a smirk.

Liz put a hand to her nose. "Why? Ryll would have liked it. She would have thought it was edgy."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "What is Arthur going to say when he sees it?"

"I have no idea! This is the twenty first century. He's going to have a lot of surprises. Good luck explaining indoor plumbing to him."

Merlin grimaced. "Right. Well, we'll cross that bridge when we get there."

…

Morgan was troubled and silent on the walk back to the flat. "Are you all right?" Liz asked.

"I don't remember doing any of those things," Morgan said. "But I believe him. I just can't imagine how I could be so cruel. To my friends…to my family."

"That was before. You have a new chance now like Merlin said."

"But once I remember, what if I can't change?" she asked, looking fearful. "What if I go back to being the evil Morgana who pushed all her friends away?"

"You can always change. If there's anything I've learned in this short life it's that we shape our own lives. No one can tell us who we're supposed to be, not even legends. We're going to prove those legends wrong because they're just stories. We're the real thing."

Morgan smiled. "Thank you, Liz. That's just what I needed to hear."

"Should we call each other by our real names or would that be too weird?" Liz asked.

"I'm not sure. How do you feel about being called Ryll?" Morgan asked.

"It feels like it's someone else and not me. Maybe it will feel different when we get our memories back. _If_ we get our memories back."

"I'm not sure I want to," Morgan said softly.

…

Byron took the news that Liz was taking a week's vacation about as well as she thought he would.

"You're taking off? And who do you suppose is going to do your work?" he asked. His Irish accent was coming out strongly like it did when he was agitated.

"This is important, Byron. Soul-searching. I've got to do this," she insisted.

He gave her a hard stare. "This doesn't have anything to do with that boy who came looking for you, does it?" he asked suspiciously.

"No, not directly. Okay, sort of." She wasn't explaining this well, but she thought telling him that she was going off on a quest to find King Arthur and his lost sword Excalibur would sound a little far-fetched even if it was the truth. Byron clearly didn't remember that he had been a druid in a past life. "It's about my past."

"I thought you grew up in Wales, lived a happy life, then moved here for a change. That is your life."

"No. I thought it was, but it isn't. There's a lot more to it. You have to trust me. I need this time off. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important," she pleaded with him.

He looked at her for a long moment then nodded his head curtly. "You have one week. Any longer and you're out of luck."

"Thank you so much!" She hugged him.

"Just do us a favor and get rid of that ring while you're out soul-searching," he told her gruffly.

…

Merlin waited anxiously the next morning. He had woken up long before seven, but now he was packed for the trip and waiting for Ryll to arrive. He was lugging his bag out to his car when Ryll appeared, backpack over one shoulder and nose ring still in place. Morgana had accompanied her, dressed in a dour black raincoat and looking as if she hadn't slept well. He couldn't see any of the old Morgana in her. Her eyes were cautious as they met his.

"Keep her safe," she said.

"I will."

"Are you sure you're okay staying by yourself?" Ryll asked her. Morgana nodded.

"I'll be fine. You go. Find Arthur. I'll watch over things while you're gone."

"Remember that if anyone suspicious comes into town, keep away. We don't know who else is out there," Merlin told her. "There are still too many questions that need answering."

"I will."

"I'll call you if we find anything," Ryll told her. She hugged Morgana briefly before getting into the car and tossing her backpack onto the back seat. Merlin turned on the engine and backed out of the space. He watched Morgana get smaller in the rearview mirror until she turned and walked away.

"Well, road trip!" Ryll said, clapping her hands together. "I see you learned how to drive."

Merlin lifted a brow. "What did you expect? A horse and carriage?"

"Well, I apparently had a horse."

"You were quite fond of her. You trained her yourself."

"I haven't ridden a horse since the pony rides at the county fair which apparently didn't happen at all since my childhood is a sham. So I guess it's been nine hundred years."

"You were pretty amazing riding into battle. Owl was a small horse, but you always refused to ride a battle horse."

"That sounds like me." She smiled trying to picture herself riding into battle. "So how long of a drive is this?"

"Six hours," Merlin said.

Ryll sighed. "Long ride. Do you have any music?" She fiddled with the CD player and indie music began to play softly from the speakers. Ryll turned it up. "The Postal Service," she said. "Nice." She hummed along while Merlin pulled out of Ealdor and turned onto the road leading south along the coast. "So," she said after ten minutes of silence. "We were…together in Camelot? You said you loved…Ryll, but you didn't expand on that."

"Yeah. I suppose you could call it that." Merlin didn't look away from the road. This was a touchy topic. He didn't want to make Liz uncomfortable, but he still loved her. She was still Ryll even if she didn't remember how she'd felt about him.

Ryll looked thoughtful. "We weren't married were we?" she asked, looking a bit startled at the thought. She fingered the ring around her neck absently, and Merlin's reply got stuck in his throat.

He shook his head. "No," he finally said. "We spent all the time we could together. We were best friends." He couldn't tell her they were engaged…couldn't talk about their wedding that hadn't happened. It was so long ago and yet it still hurt like it was yesterday.

"I'm sorry I don't remember that," she said softly, drawing his attention back to the present. "It must be weird finding the person you've been searching for for nine hundred years and having them not even remember who you are."

"It's hard," Merlin said. "But you'll remember in time."

"And until then?" she asked.

"Until then you're Liz," he answered with a forced smile. "No pressure."

"Yeah," she said, laughing softly. "No pressure."


	10. AVALON

**-Ten-**

 **A.V.A.L.O.N.**

Morgan watched Merlin's car faded into the distance and then headed back to Liz's apartment. She felt suddenly alone. Not just because the only two people she knew in this town were gone but because she wasn't even from this time. Who could possibly understand that? Her mind was reeling from what she had learned from Merlin. Part of her wanted to dismiss everything that he had said, but in her heart she knew he had told them the truth. Somehow it didn't sound as crazy as it should have. It was like filling in a familiar childhood story that she had forgotten the plot to. But it was frightening too. How was she supposed to feel after learning that she was the villain of the story? Morgana le Fay. Most people had heard of her in the Arthurian legends. It was too disconcerting to think that they were learning about _her_. _No one can tell us who we're supposed to be, not even legends. We're going to prove those legends wrong because they're just stories. We're the real thing._ Liz's words echoed in her head, and she took a deep breath. Those people didn't know the real her. They were just piecing together bits of history and filling in the gaps with what they thought should go there. No one in this world knew the real her outside of Merlin and Liz. They all thought she was a legend, a story. Now she had the chance to change the story and be someone else.

She was terrified of getting her memories back though. She was better off without them, better off not knowing the details of her cruelty. She could do without her magic too since that was what had caused her so much grief before. She just wanted to be normal. She knew she couldn't go back to being Morgan the model who lived paycheck to paycheck. That wasn't who she was. She didn't know who she was right now. She felt like a blank slate waiting to be painted. This time she was going to hold the brush. This time she wouldn't let anyone tell her who she was supposed to be.

She was nearly at the flat when she noticed a car following her. It was a familiar looking black sedan and when the driver pulled up along the curb next to her, she recognized him too.

"You!" she accused. "You left me!"

"Avalon is ready for you," he said without preempt.

"If you think I'm going anywhere with you, you're mad," Morgan said. "Not after you just vanished like that!"

"You weren't ready, but now you are," he replied.

"Ready for what?" she asked.

"Ready to hear the truth," he said.

"Look, I don't know who you are or what this Avalon is, but I've had just about enough truth for one week," she snapped.

"They just wish to speak with you – they have a deal they wish to offer you," the man pressed. "You can back out if you want. You'll never hear from them again. But you need to hear them out."

"I don't _need_ to do anything," she said, standing taller. If she was really Morgana then no one could force her to do anything she didn't want to do.

"You'll be left wondering if you don't come."

Morgan wanted to say he was wrong, but she knew he was right. A.V.A.L.O.N. was a place of mystery, and she found she wanted to get to the bottom of it. It couldn't just be coincidence that it took after the same name as the place Merlin and Liz now went to in search of Arthur. Maybe this was just the clue she needed to help fill in the gaps. The driver had said that she could back out at any time. She was under no obligation to do anything for this organization. She thought back to Merlin's warning not to speak to anyone else involved with Camelot, but Morgan couldn't just sit and do nothing. She wanted answers. "Fine," she said. "Take me there, but I want to be back before night fall. And I'm not signing anything." She opened the backdoor and slid in.

The drive took half an hour. The bridge that had gone down during the storm was up again and didn't show any signs of damage. Morgan leaned forward when White Castle came into view. The bigger city was everything that Ealdor was not.

Three-story Victorian houses lined the clean streets and there were chain stores and even a mall. Most of the buildings downtown were decorated in Art Deco style and still had their original façades. A restored castle sat high up on a hill overlooking the city and giving it its name. "They give tours on the weekends. Some rich man from the south bought it a few years ago," the driver told her.

A.V.A.L.O.N. headquarters were centered in downtown much to Morgan's surprise. She half expected it to be hidden away behind locked gates at the outskirts of town. It was a modern-looking building with tinted glass and simple lettering above the door that read: A.V.A.L.O.N. Agency. The driver parked in front of the building and opened the door for Morgan. "Go right on in," he told her. "The receptionist will point you in the right direction. I'll be waiting for you when you're done."

"Are you sure about that?" she asked.

"I'll get you back to Ealdor," he replied.

"How do you know I want to go back there?" she asked. "How do you know I don't want to go back to London?"

"Because everything you're searching for is in Ealdor," he said.

Well that was perfectly vague. Why did everyone else seem to know more about her life than she did? "Fine," she said before heading into the building. The inside was modern and sparsely furnished. Photos of models lined the walls making it seem perfectly legitimate. A receptionist sat behind a sleek black counter, poring over some papers behind black, plastic-framed glasses. She looked up when Morgan approached, tucking her straight, red hair behind her ear and smiling.

"What can I do for you?" she asked.

"I'm Morgan le Fay. I have an appointment, I think," Morgan replied, hating how hesitant she sounded.

The receptionist didn't seem to notice though. She looked over at her computer screen, clicking the mouse. "Yes. I'll take you in right away." She led Morgan down a narrow hall to the very last door. She tapped lightly and opened it, ushering Morgan in. "Nimueh will be with you in a moment," she said before shutting the door behind her.

Morgan stood alone in a small office, looking around her and fighting back her nerves. The office gave little away about the establishment. There were no photos on the wall and the desk's surface was clear except for a small desk lamp and a sleek Mac. Two black, leather chairs were settled in front of the desk. There was an adjoining door to the left, and as Morgan looked at it, it opened and a pretty woman walked through. Her eyes were shockingly blue especially against her pale skin and dark hair. Her hair was woven with feathers and her lips were painted bright red. She certainly looked like a model. Why did Morgan not believe for a minute that A.V.A.L.O.N. was that sort of agency anymore? There was too much coincidence behind it.

"Hello, Miss le Fay," the woman spoke in a strong voice. She took a seat behind her desk and motioned for Morgan to sit in one of the black, leather chairs in front of the desk. Morgan sat, keeping her eyes on the woman. "My name is Nimueh, and I'm the founder of A.V.A.L.O.N.," she said. "Have you heard of us?"

Morgan shook her head. "Your company contacted me through my old agency," she said.

"Then you're here for a modeling job."

"I'm not sure anymore," Morgan said carefully. "Are you that kind of agency?"

"I'm going to be honest with you, Morgan," Nimueh said. "We're not an agency for models. But we are an agency for a very special type of person. You fit right into that category. Can you guess what it is?"

"Does it have something to do with Camelot?" Morgan asked.

"Then you know about your past?" Nimueh asked, looking less surprised than Morgan felt.

"I do, but I don't remember it," Morgan admitted.

"Then you know that you had magic in your past life."

"Why does it matter? I don't have it now." She wasn't sure she wanted it. If magic was thought to be evil in Camelot 900 hundred years ago then it was most certainly going to be evil today. Such things weren't tolerated in a world of practicality and religion.

"It matters because that's what we're here for. A.V.A.L.O.N. is an agency for those who have magic and need somewhere to go. We help train people to both control and use their powers for good so that they can live as normal a life as possible out there in the real world. We're a sort of shelter for those in need."

"How is it you know all about magic and who I am? I can't remember anything." Frustration gnawed at her though she still wasn't certain she did want to remember.

"I cannot say why some were chosen to remember and why some were not," the woman told her. "I was told of this future in Avalon after I died. I was sent back to shelter those in need."

"And you think I need your help?"

"I think that you might need some guidance when your memories start to come back," Nimueh told her.

"You mean when I start to remember how evil I was?" Morgan asked bitterly.

"You have another chance to start again."

"Everyone keeps telling me that."

"And do you believe it?"

"I want to," Morgan said, realizing how true this was. "More than anything."

"Then will you let us help you?" Nimueh asked.

Morgan's thoughts flitted back to Merlin's warning to stay away from anyone associated with Camelot. He hadn't mentioned a Nimueh, and she had no idea what her affiliation was.

"I'll think about it," she said.

"That's all I ask," Nimueh said. "Your memories won't be gone forever. There is something blocking them, but I sense the one called Emrys will soon fix that."

"What do you mean?" Morgan asked remembering that Merlin was also called Emrys.

"He goes in search of the lost king, does he not? Once Arthur awakens so shall your memories."

"And my magic?"

"Yes." Morgan fought back the urge to call Liz and tell her to turn around and give it up. "Before you leave there's someone who wants to see you," Nimueh told her. "If you'll allow it."

Morgan hesitated for a moment. "All right," she agreed.

"Wait here, I'll only be a moment," Nimueh told her, getting up from her seat and heading into the adjoining room again. She was gone a minute and then another woman walked through the door. She was the complete opposite of Nimueh. Her hair was blonde and delicately curled with little crystal beads woven in. Her eyes were brown and rimmed with eyeliner. She smiled at Morgan. There was something achingly familiar about her though Morgan couldn't place her. Then the woman spoke.

"Hello, sister," she said. "It's been far too long."


	11. The Waters of Avalon

**-Eleven-**

 **The Waters of Avalon**

Liz was beginning to feel the awkward tension that came with taking a road trip with someone you didn't know well. Of course she _did_ know Merlin well. She just didn't remember that she knew him. They chatted idly for an hour or so but then the conversation had dwindled and they had lapsed into silence for the last two hours. There were still three hours to go, and they had not only run out of things to talk about, but they had listened to the same CD three times.

"Are you hungry?" Merlin asked suddenly.

Liz realized that she hadn't eaten at all today. "Yeah," she said. "I could go for lunch. Or breakfast. Or food in general."

Merlin pulled over in the next town they passed through and stopped at a diner. After they had sat down, Liz turned back to the subject of Camelot. "So most of the history we know," she motioned around her to indicate the rest of the world, "is inaccurate."

"Pretty much. Although a lot of stuff that you would have thought was crazy is actually true."

"Like the whole magic aspect."

"Yeah, that."

"I guess it doesn't sound totally insane." Liz bit into a chip.

"Just as crazy as reincarnation." Merlin's lips quirked up in a smile.

"What are you going to do when Arthur comes back?" Liz asked. "Is the world in danger or something outside of the usual chaos?"

"It was said that Arthur would rise again when Camelot's need was greatest."

"But Camelot is a pile of rubble now, right? How can it be in need?" Liz couldn't imagine the world being ready for King Arthur to return and save it.

"Camelot itself might be gone, but it still lives on in legends and stories. There's got to be something we're missing. Something we don't know yet."

"It sounds to be like everyone is suddenly waking up in the twenty first century with no idea who they are or what their purpose is. Except you because you were never gone." She assumed he was immortal. He had to be to look so young still. "But that man who asked if I was Ryll – he knew who I really was."

"We have no idea who else could be out there or what they know. It's been three years since the second coming began."

"Prophecies have a habit of being vague, don't they?"

"Yeah. And destinies." Merlin sighed

"What must it have been like to have waited nine hundred years and then still not know what you're supposed to do?" Liz would go insane. She couldn't imagine living that many years and still hoping.

"It's tough," Merlin said. "And frustrating. But I feel better now that I've found you."

"For what it's worth, I'm glad you did. I kept getting this feeling that I was missing something in my life. Missing a part of me. Now I feel like I have some purpose even if I don't remember any of this."

"You will."

"How do you know that?" she asked.

Merlin frowned. "I just do," he said. "Why would you come back and not be able to ever remember where you came from?"

"Beats me. I'm still trying to process the fact that I was alive nine hundred years ago."

They fell silent for a moment, and then Liz asked, "If it was my destiny to die before, do you think it will be again?"

A pained look passed over Merlin's face. "I'm not going to let you die," he said. "Arthur had his life because of you and now you deserve to have yours. Will you promise me something?" he asked. "Promise me that whatever happens, whatever you find out, you will tell me and you won't go off and do anything on your own. Please." His eyes were desperate, and Liz realized just how much she'd frightened him in her past life.

"I promise."

"I'm serious. You didn't tell me that you were destined to give your life until a day before that final battle. Even though it was me you ended up sacrificing yourself for and not Arthur, you kept so much from me."

"I'm sorry," Liz said, reaching across the table to take his hand. He jumped at the touch and looked down at their hands. "I promise not to keep anything from you this time. If you promise to do the same. This time I think you have the upper hand in knowledge."

"I promise." He brought his eyes up to hers.

"You just have been…it must have been hard," she finished, struggling for the right words.

"I was devastated." He held her gaze, his blue eyes intense. His hand tightened around hers.

"You really loved me," she said, realizing just how much that was true.

"I still do." She blinked in surprise. His blue eyes were wide and met hers unblinkingly.

Liz looked away first. "You love Ryll," she said. "Liz is different."

"A little. But you'll remember being Ryll again."

"And what if I don't? I'm sorry, but Liz doesn't have feelings for Merlin. Ryll might and when I remember, _if_ I remember being her, I'm sure she'd still feel the same way, but I can't just make myself have feelings for you. I hardly know you. I'm sorry." The words came out sounding harsher than she'd meant.

"You don't have to apologize. I'm not asking for you to love me. Just to trust me."

"How did we fall in love anyway?" Liz asked.

"It just sort of happened," Merlin said, shrugging. "At first you were interested in Arthur, but we kept getting closer. We got to be good friends, and I guess somewhere, without either of us knowing, it became something more. Before you went down to face Uther, before he sentenced you to be banished, I kissed you. It was sort of a spur of the moment thing. I don't know what shocked me more – the fact that I actually was brave enough to kiss you or the fact that you kissed me back."

Liz smiled. "That's really cute. I wish I remembered. It's like hearing someone else's love story."

"I know."

"What happened between Arthur and me then? Were we ever in love?" Now that was a crazy thought.

"I don't think so. You both sort of realized that nothing could ever happen – that was before you knew you were of noble blood. But you stayed good friends. You were more like brother and sister after awhile, always teasing him. After Morgana betrayed everyone, you bonded even more with Arthur. He needed a sister figure, and he'd lost Morgana. You were a great comfort to him and to Gwen."

"And Gwen was Morgana's maid? But she married Arthur? In all the legends, she's a lady. I like this twist. It's so much more romantic."

"Gwen was an amazing woman. She was so kind and just. She stood up for what she believed in and brought out the best in people. Arthur loved her so much. There was a time when they didn't think they would ever be able to marry, but then after Arthur became king, it was possible."

"That's so romantic," Liz said. "Things like that just don't happen anymore. Do you think Gwen will come back too? I'd like to meet her, well, _Liz_ would like to meet her."

"I don't know. I hope so. Arthur would be lost without Gwen."

"Tell me honestly. Do you think Morgana has a chance to change?" Liz asked. "Morgan is just so frightened of who she was. I don't think she could ever be evil, but Morgana didn't sound at all evil at the beginning. She was just frightened too."

"I hope so. You two were inseparable before. I wonder sometimes if Morgause brainwashed her. She changed so much after she returned to Camelot. She was so bitter and hateful. She'd turned against everyone even her friends. She tried to kill Arthur and me multiple times and eventually succeeded in killing Uther."

"If she doesn't meet Uther in this life time then she has no reason to change."

"We can't blame Uther for everything. Morgana made her own choices. I wonder sometimes if I had told her about my magic, if she could have known that she wasn't alone, if that would have made a difference."

"You shouldn't play the 'what if' game. It never leads to an answer," Liz said. "I would know. Anyway, she knows now. She was horrified to learn what she had done in the past. Maybe that knowledge will put her on the right path this time. I'm certainly not going to let her turn into an evil sorceress again."

"I'm not even sure how her magic will present itself in this life."

"But you still have your magic?" she asked him.

"Yes, but it's diminished over time for some reason. I haven't figured out why. I don't have much reason to use it anymore to be honest."

"And me?" Liz asked. "Do I still have powers?" The thought of that frightened her. She glanced at the other occupants in the diner to make sure no one was listening, but they were all wrapped up in their own food and conversations.

"I'm not sure," Merlin said, watching her carefully. "Have you ever done anything you couldn't explain?"

Liz thought back and then shook her head. "I don't think so, but then again, I haven't lived a very long life so far." She laughed. "This whole thing is just messed up."

"Hopefully once we reach the island everything will become clear," he said.

"Then let's go," Liz said, suddenly feeling the intense need to get it over with. They tossed the wrappers and empty ketchup packets away and got into Merlin's car. They spent most of the ride in silence, each wrapped up in their own thoughts. The farmland gave way to trees and shade. Merlin took an abandoned looking road that led deeper into the forest. A river cut through the forest and, as the trees thinned out, Liz could see a lake shimmering behind the trunks.

"Is that Avalon?" she asked. Something stirred in her mind – a familiarity. Something like coming home.

"Lake Avalon, yes," Merlin replied. She noticed that his hands were gripping the steering wheel tightly. She looked back at the lake and, as they crossed over a bridge, she saw the island. It sat at the very center of the lake. The tree line ended on the southern bank, allowing a small stretch of grassland to lead down into the water. Merlin drove down a dirt road and parked in the grass. He shut off the engine.

"Welcome to Avalon," he said.

Liz stared at the water in wonder. Merlin was gazing at her as if he had hoped that the sight of the lake and the island would spark some memory. "This is where I laid you to rest after…after you died. Byron too," he said.

Liz's stomach twisted uncomfortably at the thought of being dead. Her body had floated across this very water. "I remember this place," she said softly. "I've seen it over and over in my dreams. I've drawn it."

The water reflected in Merlin's blue eyes, and Liz could see the emotion behind them. She knew he was remembering her death. "Do you remember anything else?" he asked hopefully. She shook her head.

"Have I been here before? When I was alive?" she asked.

He nodded. "You visited the Sidhe once when you were trying to learn who you really were. They drew a dark magic out of you – the magic left over by the Shadow Wraith. That's when you learned of your destiny. When you learned you were going to die." His voice caught on the last word, and she felt the urge to comfort him. Instead she cleared her throat and turned her eyes back to the island.

"So how do we get across?" she asked.

"There should be a boat waiting," he said.

She lifted a brow. "Like a magical boat?"

"Yes. I enchanted it so it would be there when it was time to find Arthur." He started walking along the edge of the lake. She hurried after him. "Only a person with magic can find it."

"So you said only I can set foot on the island because I'm descended from the Sidhe, correct?"

"Right."

"But if I'm with you, you'll be able to set foot there too?"

"I think so."

"You think? What happens if it doesn't work?" she asked.

"Then I'd die. But I don't think that will happen."

"How can you be so sure?" she asked. He sounded awfully confident for someone who might die just for setting foot on an island.

"I've read a lot on the subject," he said. "Only a Sidhe can grant access to Avalon. Since you have Sidhe blood in you, you can grant me access. Also I'm immortal. That might make a difference."

"But I don't know anything about the Sidhes… I certainly don't remember being part Sidhe." She wasn't even sure if she knew _what_ a Sidhe was.

"It's in your blood. That's what counts. It's where your magic came from…" Merlin trained off, his gaze focused on something hidden in the reeds.

"Look," he said, pointing. "The boat."

They pushed it free with some branches that had broken off one of the nearby trees. It bobbed gently in the shallows as if waiting for them to get in. Liz felt a sudden urge to run straight back to Merlin's black sedan and lock herself in. "Let's go," she said instead.

They managed to both get into the boat without getting wet. There were no oars, so Merlin said a quick incantation and the boat began to move of its own accord. His eyes glowed amber again for a quick moment, and Liz found it both unsettling and oddly hypnotic. "Did my eyes glow like that too?" she asked.

"Not all the time," he said. "When you used your elemental powers for water and air, your eyes just seemed to glow blue, but when you used your powers for earth and fire, especially fire, they would glow amber. You were different."

"Because of the Sidhe blood in me?"

"Probably. Elemental magic came so naturally to you. Very few sorcerers can harness that kind of power without much effort. It came almost too naturally to you."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

He glanced at her. "You had trouble controlling it," he said. "Sometimes when you were angry or sad, it would just flair out from you."

"Did I ever hurt anyone?"

Merlin didn't answer at once, and she could tell that he was keeping something from her. "You never meant to," he finally answered.

"But I did?" She'd had this grand illusion of who she'd been in her past life, but now she was starting to see that it wasn't all shining armor and pretty gowns. She had blood on her hands.

"Only those who had already tried to hurt you. Or me. I was always your weakness and you were always mine." He smiled at this, and she smiled too even though she couldn't remember what that felt like.

"Did I use my powers a lot?"

"You did at first when you discovered that you had them, but after an…incident…you stopped using them altogether. When Morgana turned on us, you used them to defend yourself and me on several occasions, but by then you'd learned to control them. Byron found a crystal necklace that you could channel your powers through. I think the crystal came from the Crystal Caves."

"Where is the necklace now?" Liz thought back to the store beneath her flat. It bore the same name as the famous caves. Was that just a coincidence?

"I'm not sure. Do you have it back home in your jewelry box or something?"

"I don't think so." She fingered the ring around her neck. "I just have this. I'm not sure where I got it. I've just always had it." She frowned. Was it from her past life? She watched Merlin's expression falter, sorrow reflecting in his eyes. Yes, this ring had significance in her past life, she would bet anything. She decided not to pry. Merlin would tell her about it when she was ready.

"So I was powerful. Was Morgana powerful?"

"She became a High Priestess, one of the most powerful sorceresses of all time. Her magic became very strong after she learned to use it."

"If only she had used it for good instead of for destruction."

"I could understand why she turned against Uther, but I never did understand why she turned against everyone else. We'd all been friends to her. I'd even tried to help her learn to use her magic by taking her to the druids. I was a friend to her, but she tried to kill me multiple times. And Arthur. She claimed Uther's throne once before he died. He was never the same after that. Seeing his own daughter be so cruel undid him. He never recovered from knowing how much she hated him. He really did love her no matter how much he hated magic, but her fear of what he would have done to her had he found out was too much for her."

"You lived in that same fear, but it didn't corrupt you," Liz said.

"But I was not Uther's ward."

"You were Arthur's servant though. Surely there were a few times when you were afraid he'd found out about your magic."

"Usually he was too thick to figure that out. Or he thought I was too much of a dimwit to have magic."

Liz laughed. "But now he'll accept you for who you are, right?" she asked, growing serious again. "Did he ever find out you had magic?"

"Yes…" Merlin hesitated, and Liz realized she kept bringing up that fateful day. It might not cause her any harm, but it hurt Merlin to remember. "After Sarrum shot the arrow and you took it, I sent out a wave of magic and killed him. Everything was happening all at once, and I know Arthur was shocked, but he let me say goodbye and grieve before bringing it up. He was hurt at first that I'd lied to him for so long, but he realized how much I'd helped him and the kingdom and that all I'd ever done with my magic was for good. He accepted me for who I was. He knew who you were before that, and he had accepted you. After you sacrificed yourself on that battlefield, he changed. He made me his advisor. He abolished all laws banning magic, and Camelot prospered. There were still some prejudices and tension, but everyone could see that Camelot was much happier and safer when there was peace between people of every kind. Arthur always spoke of you and your sacrifice. He called the treaty that united those with magic and without the Amaryllis Treaty."

"He named a treaty after me?"

"Yes."

"Then why does no one today know who I am?" she asked. It wasn't that she wanted the honor or glory – she just wanted to know who she was. She felt as if she'd been erased from history.

Merlin sighed. "The most important people in history are sometimes forgotten. Most of the accounts are unclear and everyone seems to go for the Lancelot, Arthur, Gwen love triangle that ends up in all of them dying."

"And everyone thinks you're a very old man with a long white beard," Liz put in.

Merlin grinned. "I am technically nine hundred twenty four years old."

"But then is this your true form or are you using a glamor of sorts?" Liz asked.

"This is my true form. Apparently it comes with being immortal. After I reached twenty or so, I just stopped changing. I stayed young, so I used magic to age myself to look how old I should have been. Arthur never would have forgiven me if I'd stayed young while he got old anyway." He grinned at this.

Their conversation was cut off when the boat gently bumped into the island. They both looked up at the crumbling tower that sat in the very center. Liz felt as if she was in a dream.

"Are you ready?" Merlin asked her.

"As ready as I'll ever be. Should we hold hands or something? How am I supposed to allow you to come onto the island? I don't even feel welcome here." She shivered. The last thing she wanted was for Merlin to get hurt. She didn't feel any magic inside of her and if she was supposed to get by on pure confidence, that wasn't going to happen.

"Let's start with getting out of the boat. You'd better go first. You'll be fine. You have Sidhe blood, remember?" he encouraged her.

Liz nodded and stood, trying to keep her balance in the boat. It held surprisingly still. She set one foot on the ground and then the other. Nothing happened. She didn't feel any different. She held her hand out to Merlin. "I hereby allow you, Merlin, to set foot on Avalon by the Sidhe powers invested in me," she said formally.

Merlin took her hand and stepped from the boat.


	12. The Once and Future King

**-Twelve-**

 **The Once and Future King**

Merlin's hand was warm in hers, and Liz found herself distinctly distracted for a moment. Then he let go, and the moment passed.

"Well, I'm still alive," he said, holding out his arms.

"Good. I'm glad that's over with." Liz didn't want to admit how nervous she really had been. She wasn't sure she was ready to believe in magic, but she didn't want to take any chances. "Let's go see if Arthur's here."

Liz led the way up the grassy incline and toward the crumbling stone structure. She felt a distinct feeling of déjà vu and realized why. She stopped short, and Merlin nearly ran into her.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"I remember this tower," she whispered.

"You're remembering?" he asked hopefully.

"Not remembering, it's just, I've drawn this island with this exact same tower," she said. "I do sketches," she explained at Merlin's confused expression. "And I've drawn things that Morgan recognizes too. Obviously they're from Camelot. That proves that my memories are somewhere buried within my subconscious."

"That's a good thing," Merlin said. "Now we just need to crack them open."

"That sounds painful."

"Remembering often is. Come on." He brushed a hand over her arm in a way that felt familiar and led them on.

There was a narrow pathway that led up the grassy hill and into the ruins. They made their way through the crumbling stone until they reached the very center of the tower. Liz stopped short. In the very middle of a stone courtyard stood a stone altar. And on that altar lay a man. Merlin had rushed forward, but Liz was hesitant.

The man had golden blonde hair and a pale face. He wore chainmail and a shoulder plate that covered his right shoulder. His hands lay on his chest, and he appeared to be sleeping peacefully. He wasn't much older than them as if time had rewound itself while he'd been in Avalon.

"Is he alive?" Liz asked.

"Yes. He's sleeping," Merlin answered quickly, his fingers pressed up against the king's neck to find a pulse. "Maybe you can help me wake him?" He looked up hopefully at her.

Liz forced herself to walk forward until she stood next to him and the king. "This is Arthur?" she asked aloud. She didn't know what she'd expected. She'd seen illustrations of course and actors in films posing as the king, but there was something so… _human_ about him in person.

"The once and future king."

"How can he be king again when he has no kingdom?" Liz asked frowning.

"I'm not sure," Merlin replied. "Truth be told, I'm have no idea what's going to happen. I just know some sort of danger will present itself and that's the reason Arthur will rise again."

"But we've all been here for three years," Liz reminded him. "Nothing out of the ordinary has happened."

"Not yet." Merlin looked away from Arthur. "I just wish my destiny was clearer or that anything was clearer really. I'd take a sign any day. I wish Gaius was here."

"The physician?" Liz remembered hearing about him.

"He was like a father to me. He always had the best advice. Or Kilgharrah, the great dragon."

"You got advice from a dragon? Oh right, you were a dragon lord, but still. That's pretty awesome."

Merlin grinned. "Camelot had its perks." He looked down at the king, smile fading.

"Did you try waking him up?" Liz asked taking a step forward. She nudged the king's shoulder, but he didn't wake.

"I don't think he'll just wake up if we yell at him or prod him," Merlin said.

"What about magic?"

"I can try." Merlin reached a hand out toward Arthur. "Ic ácwice þé," he said and as he spoke, his eyes glowed amber. Nothing happened though. "All right how about, Ic þé bebíede þæt þú mé slæpest!" Again his eyes glowed and again nothing happened. "I don't think any spell is going to wake him."

"Then what will?" Liz asked.

"Excalibur." Merlin indicated where Arthur's arms were folded over his chest. "A knight is always laid to rest with his sword. I think once we return the sword to its rightful master, he'll awaken."

"How can you be sure?"

"I'm not, but it makes sense."

"So now we need to find the sword. Short of dredging the entire lake, do you have any ideas?"

Merlin thought for a moment. "Camelot's ruins?" he suggested.

"Haven't you been there like a million times in nine hundred years?"

"Yes, but that was before the Second Coming began. Maybe the sword just sort of reappeared."

"All right. Is Camelot close?"

Merlin nodded. "Just an hour's drive."

"All right. Let's go. We'll find the sword and then come back with it and awaken Arthur. Nothing difficult about that." Liz knew that sooner or later something was going to happen that would turn this whole adventure into something more dangerous, but for now she was content to think that it might be easy.

"I know I'm asking you to help with something that seems impossible, but I know the sword is out there somewhere."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm still getting used to the whole Camelot was real and I lived in it thing and now we're off in search of a magical sword to awaken King Arthur."

"That does have an unbelievable ring to it," Merlin agreed.

"But it's also kind of awesome." Liz grinned. "Not every girl gets the chance to adventure alongside Merlin the sorcerer."

"Right. Well, it's not all that exciting." He looked bashful.

"It's more exciting than working behind a bar everyday." Liz realized just how true this was. Ever since Merlin had walked into her life, nothing had been boring. She had never felt so alive, and she was afraid that after this was all over she'd have to go back to her life the way it was before. She realized with a jolt she didn't want that anymore.

Merlin gave Arthur one more look. "We _will_ come back," he told the king. "I promise. We'll find a way to awaken you." He briefly touched his friend's shoulder and then turned to follow Liz off the island.

The boat was where they left it, and Merlin used magic to get them back to the other side. Liz watched the island fade into the mist, feeling a pang of sorrow leaving the king behind.

…

From the trees, Lancelot watched as Merlin and Ryll alighted from the boat. They'd been to Avalon. But had they found the king? He moved a little closer so he could hear what Merlin and Ryll were saying. They walked close to each other, shoulders brushing, and he could see the trust in Ryll's face. Ryll didn't trust easily, so did that mean she had her memories back? He heard Merlin mention Excalibur and then Arthur. Ryll mentioned returning to the island. So Arthur was there. As they got into Merlin's car and drove away, Lancelot took a step toward the waters of Avalon. Last time he had been there, he had been a wraith. Merlin had released him from Morgana's curse, however, and he was able to die in peace. His gratitude toward his friend was overwhelmed by the guilt he felt from serving Uther. Once he'd found a way to break free of Uther, Lancelot swore that he would never go against his friends again. But until then, the king would be waiting, and he must report that they had found Arthur.

…

Liz was more talkative on the drive to Camelot. Merlin had finally started calling her Liz in his head. She wasn't Ryll anymore. Not until she got her memories back. Liz was much more enthusiastic and sarcastic. She had an edge to her that Ryll had never had. She was much more trusting than Ryll, and he was grateful that she was accepting all of this even if she still had doubts. He felt conflicted when he thought about getting Ryll back. Would Liz be erased? Would she disappear as if she'd never existed in the first place? Her past was a lie, her memories were fake. It was a cruel existence. Maybe he needed to stop thinking about Ryll as two different people. She was still the same person, but he wasn't naïve enough to believe that even when she did get her memories back she would be the same Ryll as before. After over nine hundred years, he wasn't the same person. How could he be after everything he'd seen, everything he'd lost, everything he'd been through? The years changed people, but it also meant they could evolve. It was something Arthur was going to have to do because this wasn't anything like the world they'd once lived in. He didn't know where Arthur fit into all of this yet.

Seeing Arthur for the first time in nine hundred years had been difficult and wonderful all at the same time. Merlin ached to joke around with his friend. He wouldn't even mind a bucket over his head. Arthur had been his best friend until the day he'd died. And Merlin had missed him. He'd missed all his friends. Watching them grow old and die had been the hardest part of being immortal. It'd made him want to die alongside them, but he didn't. He lived on until everyone he knew was dead and he was utterly alone in the world, hoping, just hoping, that one day he would see them again in either life or death. He'd contemplated trying to find death, but he knew of only one weapon that could give it to him. Before he'd sent Excalibur off with Arthur into the waters of Avalon, he'd wondered if he could wait for Ryll's return or if he could find her sooner if he joined her in death. But he'd been frightened. Frightened he wouldn't see her again, frightened that she'd come back to a world without him. He'd set the sword in Arthur's hands instead and pushed the boat out into the waters. Now that he had Ryll back and was on the verge of waking Arthur, he realized that he still had purpose. His life still had meaning though he'd doubted it many times over the last nine hundred years.

"Merlin?" Liz brought him back to the present. He glanced at her and saw that her wide blue eyes were watching him curiously. "You looked miles away," she said.

"Sorry. I do that sometimes." He turned his eyes back to the road, gripping the steering wheel a little harder than necessary.

"I understand. I do that too. I'll suddenly get this overwhelming feeling that I'm about to remember something, but no matter how hard I concentrate, it never comes back to me. I'll just get feelings, but never images. At least you have your memories."

"Some are painful," he said before he could help himself.

"Like losing me? And Arthur?"

"Those are the most painful. You were taken from me too soon."

"Sometimes sacrifice comes with a steep price."

"I was willing to die," Merlin said sharper than he'd meant to. "If it meant you didn't have to."

"Even if it meant abandoning Arthur and Camelot?" Liz's voice was sad.

Merlin looked over at her. "Arthur didn't need me, but I did need you."

"Of course Arthur needed you," Liz said softly. "I'm sorry I left you. I'm here now."

"But you don't remember. You don't remember being her." She recoiled when he called Ryll 'her' rather than 'you'.

"Just because I can't remember, doesn't mean I'm not her," she said turning away.

"I'm sorry," Merlin said after a moment. "I didn't mean that. Of course you're her."

Liz stayed silent, and Merlin cursed himself for his outburst. He concentrated on driving instead and took another back road that led deeper into the forest. You couldn't actually see the road unless you knew it was there. Merlin had put up an enchantment to hide Camelot years and years ago – more like centuries, he supposed. He'd harnessed the spell to the stones themselves and so as long as they stood, the enchantment would hold. If you didn't know that Camelot was there, you would never see it. That kept it safe from wandering eyes and archeologists. They would have a field day here, but he didn't want them touching anything. It was still Arthur's kingdom. Even in ruins.

When they entered the clearing that led up to the castle, Merlin saw the crumbling towers of the once beautiful, white-stoned castle. He heard Liz suck in a breath at the sight. Even in its downfall, it was still beautiful.

"Welcome to Camelot," he said softly. "Welcome home."


	13. Camelot

**-Thirteen-**

 **Camelot**

Even in ruins, Camelot was the most incredible thing Liz had ever seen. It took every little tacky tourist legend and razed it to the ground. The whites of the castle were dirty but she could imagine what it had looked like in all of its splendor. Merlin drove under a grove of trees and then they could see the castle entirely. The trees had pressed in around it, but the walls still partially stood. Merlin drove through the front gates and stopped at the inner courtyard. "We'll have to go on foot from here," he said, shutting off the engine.

"How has nobody found this in all these years?" Liz asked in awe, getting out of the car and taking in the lower city. "This is _incredible_! Besides time, it doesn't look like anything has touched it."

"I cast an enchantment over it after the castle was defeated and abandoned," Merlin told her.

"When was that?"

"It was a few generations after Arthur. Saxons invaded and the city was weakened. Not every king after Arthur was as good a king as him."

"His heirs?"

"Arthur and Gwen had a son and a daughter. They ended up ruling together with equal powers. Their reign was one of the most peaceful times in Camelot. I stayed and advised them for a while, but after that I left Camelot. It just wasn't the same after Arthur died. I was called back several times to advise new kings. Arthur's great grandson wasn't a very strong king. He suffered from a bone disease and couldn't fight. By the time he called for my help, the city was already under attack and even healed, he couldn't fight. He was struck down and the city fell into chaos. I tried to save it, but then I realized it wasn't meant to be saved. It just wasn't the same without Arthur. So I left. It was one of the hardest choices I've never had to make."

"I can't even imagine."

Merlin pocketed his keys and looked at Liz. "Are you ready?" he asked. She nodded and followed him as he made his way past the ruined houses and overturned carts.

"It's like it was attacked yesterday," she said in a whisper as if anything louder was taboo in such a silent place.

"It's hard to see it this way," Merlin replied.

They made their way up to the fortress which had suffered the worst damage. The once beautiful towers were now crumbled. The courtyard was covered in scattered stones the size of cars. Liz and Merlin carefully made their way up to the front doors.

"Where would the sword be?" Liz asked.

"In the vaults? I'm not sure. Something tells me it isn't here, but we might as well look since we're here."

"Is it safe to go in?" she asked.

"Probably not." He was already going through the doors – or what was left of them. One hung from its hinges while the other lay half-buried in leaves on the ground. They entered the front hall, and Liz took in the feeling of standing in Camelot. It was surreal. "I used to live here," she said mostly to herself.

"It's hard to believe, isn't it?"

They wandered around, Merlin giving her a tour of the castle. They reached the throne room. One of the thrones was still mostly intact and Liz sat down on it. "Take a picture of me," she said suddenly.

"What?" Merlin grinned as she passed over her phone.

"Seriously. I'm sitting on King Arthur's throne. That needs to be immortalized."

"I thought you hated all the legends," Merlin said, lifting an eyebrow.

"Well that was before I knew they were real and I'd lived in them!"

Merlin gave in and snapped a shot of her sitting on the throne. She bounced forward and took the phone from him, examining the photo. "I look awesome," she said.

Merlin laughed. "You always do," he said with a smile. Liz smiled back.

"What else is there to see?"

"Well, we could see the physician's quarters if they're still intact. The vaults are far below the castle. Hopefully the entrance hasn't been blocked off."

"Couldn't you just blast the stones out of our way with your magic?" Liz asked.

"You just really want to see me blow things up, don't you?" He cast her an amused glance.

"Well, you have to admit, that's a pretty incredible power."

"I haven't had much use for it lately," he admitted. "It would be pretty noticeable if I started blasting cars out of my way on the way to work."

"You have a job?" Liz asked, unable to keep the surprise from her voice.

Merlin lifted a brow. "What did you think I did? Sat around and made prophecies?"

"Something like that."

"I went to school for medicine and worked as a doctor in one lifetime. Then I was an archeologist for a while after I got my PhD in medieval history. Lately I haven't been working. I saved up enough money from working as a doctor that I don't need to work for a while."

"Wow, so you're rich and really well-educated. I'm feeling a little substandard here with my associate's degree in general studies."

"You're plenty intelligent," Merlin told her. "And you _were_ a knight of Camelot. I don't think anyone today can put that on their resume."

"I guess that counts for something," Liz said with a smile. "Although that might raise some eyebrows."

They stopped short when they found themselves facing the broken door of what Liz supposed was the physician's quarters. Merlin bent down and picked up something from the dusty floor. It was a plaque. He blew off some of the dust, and Liz could read the words. _Physician's Quarters_.

Merlin stared at it for a long while until Liz touched his arm. He jumped slightly as if he'd forgotten that she was there. He looked down at her for a moment and then silently put the plaque back down. He squeezed Liz's hand before entering the room.

Everything had been smashed and thrown about the room. Pages from old books lay scattered everywhere. Liz bent down and picked up a page. "Why are people so destructive?" she asked.

"Sometimes it feels like that's all they are," Merlin agreed. "This was my room." He stood at a door at the top of a short set of stairs. He pushed it open and they entered a dusty room. The contents had been thrown around too, but the structural damage was minimal. "Come look out the window," Merlin told her. "The view is amazing."

She came forward and stepped onto a small platform built into the wall so that she could gaze out the window. The open air felt good after being stuck in the dusty castle. Liz couldn't breathe for a moment though. The view was more than amazing. It overlooked the parapets and the lower towns. It was as if she could see all of Camelot from this window. She felt Merlin come up behind her.

"We used to stare out at the city at night," he said, his breath close to her ear, "and watch the stars."

"That sounds lovely." Liz felt her heartbeat pick up at Merlin's closeness. She held her breath for a moment and then turned around slowly. Merlin was looking at her, and for a moment she forgot the view altogether.

"Do you remember?" he asked, his voice pained. He wanted so badly for her to remember.

"I want to," she said. "I really do."

"But you don't."

She shook her head. "I'm sorry."

"Maybe this will help you remember." Before she could ask what, he leaned forward, closing the gap between them, and kissed her. She breathed in sharply, surprised, but his lips were soft on hers, and she found herself leaning into him. His hand came to rest on her hip, and she brought a hand up and laid it over his heart. For a moment a memory flashed. She was no longer Liz, she was Ryll again, and she could feel how much she loved Merlin. Then the feeling faded. They broke apart, both breathing a little too quickly.

"I remembered for a moment," she said. He watched her until she looked away. "But it faded. I'm sorry."

"It was worth a try," he said, shrugging. "Sorry, I didn't mean to surprise you."

She grinned. "I've had worse surprises."

Feeling awkward, Liz stepped off of the ledge. "Shall we find the vaults?" she asked.

Merlin nodded and followed her out of his old room and through the physician's quarters. Liz started down the hall, but Merlin paused and she saw him slip the physician's quarter's plaque into the leather bag he'd brought with him. She turned away and let him catch up to her.

"It's just down this way," he said, leading them down a set of stairs. They had to climb over some fallen stones and it grew dark very quickly. Merlin held out his hand and suddenly a ball of light appeared before them, illuminating the walls. They followed the light deeper and deeper until they reached a wall of fallen stones.

"I guess we're going to need your powers after all," Liz said.

"It looks like it." Merlin thought for a moment and then said, "Back up. I don't want you to get hurt." He took a few steps back too and then shut his eyes to concentrate. Then he thrust out his hand and the stones crumbled into dust before Liz's eyes. She coughed on the dust.

"That was awesome!" she said. Merlin opened his eyes.

"Come on," he said, leading her through the metal gates. The gates had been broken long ago and so the lock did not hinder them. The air was stale inside the vaults, and Liz was beginning to feel a little claustrophobic. As if sensing her discomfort, Merlin stuck close to her side. They kept their eyes alert for any swords. Liz found quite a few, but Merlin shook his head whenever she presented them to him.

"I don't think it's here," he said finally.

"Where else would it be?" Liz asked.

Merlin thought for a moment. Then his eyes lit up as if he was remembering something important. "Of course!" he said. "I'm stupid. There's only one place it could be."

He started toward the entrance to the vaults. "Wait! Where is it?" Liz asked, hurrying to keep up with him.

"In the stone," he said, looking back at her with triumphant eyes.

" _The_ stone?" she asked. "As in the sword in the stone?"

"Yes."

"So that legend was true?" she asked. "Arthur really did pull Excalibur from a stone?"

"Yes."

"How did it get there?"

"I put it there."

"You put it there?" She thought for a moment. "Why did you put it there?" she asked as they made their way up to the corridor.

"I needed somewhere to keep it safe until Arthur was ready to wield it. I helped him pull it out with magic. He needed to believe that only the true king of Camelot could pull it out. It was a bit of a morale lifter."

"Clever. Very clever." Liz was impressed.

"It will be there, I know it," Merlin said.

"How far is-" Liz cut off as a tremendous rumbling came from overhead. They both looked up in time to see a huge stone crumbling from the ceiling. It came falling straight at them. Liz didn't think. She lunged for Merlin and knocked him out of the way. The stone crashed where they had been standing a moment before. Bits of it broke off, and a piece hit Liz on the head. She saw stars and then everything went black.


	14. Reunion

**-Fourteen-**

 **Reunion**

Merlin dusted himself off, looking for Ryll. She was lying on the floor a few feet away, unconscious. There was a trickle of blood running down her temple. "Ryll!" He pulled her into his arms. She was covered in dust, but she moaned when he held her. She was all right, just a little dazed. Coming into the castle had been a bad idea. Merlin pulled Ryll into his arms and carried her out of the castle, setting her down when they reached the well in the courtyard. He lowered the bucket, which was surprisingly still intact, and drew water. He pulled a scarf from his bag – one that he used to wear on a daily basis – and drenched it in water. Then he cleaned off Ryll's face and her wound. It was shallow and stopped bleeding after he cleaned it. She opened her eyes and peered up at him.

"That scarf," she said, fingering the red cloth. "I remember it." She looked up at him, and he felt his heart give a hopeful jolt. "You wore one everyday."

"I did," he said, his voice weak with relief. She was beginning to remember. "Are you all right? I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken you in there. It was too dangerous."

"Are you kidding?" she asked. "You couldn't have kept me out." She struggled to get to her feet, and Merlin helped her up. "It's getting dark already," she said, looking up. Merlin hadn't realized they'd been in the castle for that long. "Where's the stone?" she asked.

"It's about two hours away on foot, but it's getting too late. It will be dark by the time we reach it, and you shouldn't be traveling a long distance."

"I'm fine." She waved off his concern.

"No, let's get a hotel room for the night. We're dirty and tired."

Ryll looked down at her clothes and winced. "All right. A shower does sound nice right now."

"Then it's settled. We'll come back tomorrow. Maybe we can find some horses and cut some time off our trip."

They walked slowly back to Merlin's car, trying to dust themselves off as best they could. As they got into the car, Merlin placed his bag on the backseat with care.

"You really miss him, don't you?" Ryll asked.

"Who?"

"Gaius."

"Yeah, I do really miss him. My time in Camelot was the best of my life despite all the hardships. I always came back to a safe place to sleep and someone to guide and care for me. I couldn't ask for more."

"That does sound nice." She sighed, and Merlin wondered what it must be like to have false memories, to be unable to remember who she really was. He didn't understand how this all worked, didn't know why she'd been given a false past. He'd learned not to question the intricacies of magic and prophecies.

They drove for an hour before they reached any signs of civilization. It was dark by the time they found a suitable hotel and pulled into the parking lot. They rented one room with two beds and took turns in the bathroom. After Merlin was showered, he pulled a fresh T-shirt over his head and found Ryll lying on her stomach on one of the beds flipping through channels. She'd changed into sleep shorts and a loose fitting tank top. Merlin tried not to stare. It was so strange suddenly having her so near, and yet she wasn't quite Ryll just yet.

Her honey curls were still wet and draped over her shoulders and back like ribbons. The blue strand was nearly black. He wondered what Ryll would have thought of Liz. He realized he was staring when she looked over at him and asked, "What?"

"Nothing." He sat down on his bed and watched the television as she worked the remote. Finally, she settled on the movie channel.

"So, what do you think will happen when we pull the sword from the stone?" Ryll asked, turning away from the TV. "Who's going to pull it out anyway? I suppose you since you put it there with magic. Well, the first time."

"We'll both pull it out," he said.

She stared at him. "Okay," she said, a smile forming on her face. "I never thought I'd say this, but I'd love to try to pull Excalibur from the stone."

"It is a rare opportunity," he agreed.

"So, first thing tomorrow we acquire two horses and set out for the stone. Then we make our way back to Arthur and give him the sword. He wakes up and we figure out what we're all supposed to do. Also those are the strangest three sentences I have ever said."

"If it all goes that smoothly, then yes."

"You think something might happen?" she asked, turning over to look at him.

"I just wonder who else is out there," Merlin replied vaguely. "Clearly someone else is aware that you're back. I just wonder who it was."

"I wish I knew," Ryll said. "I'm going to call Morgan," she said after a pause, "and let her know what's going on."

Merlin nodded, and Ryll pulled out her cell phone. He noticed that she'd made the picture of her sitting on Arthur's throne her background picture. He smiled at that.

…

"We'll get the sword tomorrow and then go wake up Arthur," Liz said on the other line. "Has anything exciting happened there?"

"No, nothing," Morgan replied. She wasn't ready to tell Liz about her meeting with Morgause and Nimueh. Something held her back. She wanted to form her own opinions about people. Or maybe she was just afraid that Merlin would tell her that Morgause was evil and she should stay as far away from her as possible. He had told her what Morgause had done, but Morgana wanted to believe that if she had been given a second chance, so had Morgause. After their meeting that morning, Morgan had felt torn. Morgause had asked Morgan to think about joining A.V.A.L.O.N. to help other magical people learn to use and control their powers. Again Morgan had said she'd think about it. She felt an instant kinship to Morgause, but she knew that their bond was what had caused Morgana to turn against her own friends. Morgan wasn't going to make that same mistake. A.V.A.L.O.N. seemed like a legitimately good cause. Helping people had once been her passion. Helping magical people sounded like as good a cause as any. She just wanted to make sure that Morgause and Nimueh were on the right side this time whatever the right side was. She didn't want a repeat of history.

"That's good. Is Owl behaving herself?" Liz asked on the other line. "Morgan?"

"Oh, yes, she's been good company. Be careful tomorrow Liz."

"I will." Liz hesitated and then asked, "Is there something going on? You can trust me Morgan. We're in this together."

"I'm just afraid of who else might want the sword or who might want to stop you. We don't know who's out there," she said.

"We'll be careful," Liz said. "I'll call you tomorrow after we get the sword, okay?"

"All right. Talk to you later."

Morgan ended the call and sat staring ahead at the drawing of Camelot. It was a reminder of what she'd had and what she'd lost. She got ready for bed and settled in on the couch, eyes still set on the drawing. Owl wormed her way under the blankets by Morgan's feet, settling in for the night. Morgan couldn't fall asleep for along time, but when she did, her dreams were restless.

She woke up in the middle of the night after having a particularly bad nightmare. In her nightmare she'd been asleep when someone had broken into the flat and put a cloth over her nose. She'd tried to fight them off, but whatever the cloth had been soaked in knocked her out. When she came to, she was in a dark room. A man stood silhouetted against a window. He turned and, in a moment of panic, she recognized him. Then she had woken up feeling more frightened than she ever had before in this life. She heard a click and then quiet footsteps. It wasn't just a dream, it was a premonition, she realized. And it was happening right now.

Owl was standing and had arched her back, letting out a low hiss. Morgan grabbed the closest object – her book on famous women – and wielded it like a weapon. She positioned herself in the corner of the room, holding the book before her like a shield. She heard rustling. There was more than one person. She readied herself as someone walked into the living room. As soon as he came in range, she brought the book down on his head and made a run for it. He fell with an 'umph' to the floor where he lay unconscious. She ran straight into another man.

"I'm sorry," he said as he pressed a cloth over her nose. A sickly sweet smell filled her lungs, and she felt herself losing consciousness. She fell into the man's arms and he held her until everything turned black.

…

The room swam into focus as Morgan regained consciousness. It was the same room from her vision. She was lying on a black leather couch and saw that a desk sat straight across from her. A man stood behind it, silhouetted against the window. It was dark outside, but a lamplight gave the room some source of light. The man turned around as if sensing she was awake. She recognized him from her vision, but past that she had no idea who he was. He had short grey hair and matching grey eyes. A scar ran down the right side of his forehead at a slight angle. He held himself tall as if he was a person of some importance. When he saw that she was awake, his eyes widened in joy.

"Morgana," he said, coming forward.

She shrunk back and he stopped short, eyes flickering in confusion. "Of course, you don't remember who you are," he said. He stood where he was.

"Who are you?" she asked.

Pain crossed over his face, but then it faded. "This is a chance for us to start over," he said, not quite answering her question. "We did not leave the last life on the best of terms. I fear I drove you away and caused you to turn against me. And for that I am sorry. You were my greatest regret. I didn't raise you the way I should have. I should have told you that you were my daughter and showed you how much you meant to me instead of driving you away and hiding that from you."

"Your daughter?" Morgan realized who this was. This was Uther Pendragon. This was the man who had driven her to turn against all of her friends and all of Camelot. Her father.


	15. Allegiance

**Author's Note:** Nearly at the end of part one! Thank you so much to everyone reading! I really appreciate it. Part two will pick up the pace a little, and we'll see some of the other characters.

* * *

 **-Fifteen-**

 **Allegiance**

When Liz awoke she wasn't sure where she was at first. She sat up and looked around, seeing Merlin still asleep in the other bed. Camelot. She had visited Camelot. Not the cheap ruins that the tour guides tried to sell to you but the real Camelot. Her thoughts flitted to her kiss with Merlin. She put her fingers to her lips, but she still couldn't remember being Ryll. She wished so badly that she could remember something. Just knowing that it had happened wasn't enough to reawaken all the feelings she had felt as Ryll. She was tired of feeling like two different people.

Merlin stirred in the other bed and opened his eyes. "Ready to hunt for Excalibur?" he asked groggily.

"I guess that's what I was reborn for," she said. She felt a twinge of nerves at the thought. They were getting close to something; she could feel it. A part of her didn't expect it to work, but she had seen Arthur with her own eyes. An excited anticipation was building up inside of her, and she felt an urgency to get the sword. "Where are we going to find horses?"

"There's a lot of farmland around here. We can probably borrow two for a few hours. I brought cash just in case."

"I'm going to get dressed." Liz slipped into the bathroom and put on jeans and a T-shirt. She fingered the blue strand in her hair for a moment before tucking it behind her ear. After Merlin had dressed, they grabbed bagels from the front office and checked out. Then they were on their way, headed toward a farm Merlin had seen on the side of the road the night before. Liz was trying to remember riding horses, but the only memories she had were of riding at the county fair as a child and those were false memories.

They pulled down the drive and stopped by the barn. A man walked out to greet them. "Morning," he said. "How can I help you?"

"We're looking to borrow some horses," Merlin said. "I'm more than willing to pay."

The man eyed them. "Going somewhere your car can't take you?" he asked.

"Yeah. There's a place in the woods," he said. "You can only reach it by horseback and it'd take too long on foot."

"I have a couple of trail horses you can rent."

"Any chance you have a truck and trailer we could borrow?" Merlin glanced at his compact Hyundai. "I'll pay for gas."

"All right. If you've got your heart set on riding through the woods." The man nodded toward an old pickup with a two-horse trailer attached. "Just have them back by the end of the day."

"Thank you." Merlin handed the man a bill. The man's eyes widened.

"They're not worth that much," he said in surprise.

"It's all right. This means a lot to us," Merlin insisted.

Liz craned her neck to see how much he'd given the man, but he pocketed the money with a nod. "Just this way." He helped them load two sturdy geldings into the trailer and handed the keys over to Merlin. Liz felt a jolt of excitement as they drove away from the farm, trail horses in tow. Merlin took the same road they'd taken the day before and parked in front of the gates to Camelot. They unloaded the horses and saddled them.

"Will I remember how to ride from before?" Liz asked nervously, eyeing the tall bay gelding. The horse was ripping grass up and chomping lazily at it.

"I'm sure you will. You were the best horsewoman in Camelot," Merlin assured her.

Liz walked around to the horse's left side, grasping the pommel of the saddle and setting her left foot into the stirrup and pulling herself up. She readjusted the stirrups and patted the bay horse's neck. Sitting in the saddle felt natural, and Liz gave Merlin a thumbs up. Merlin's own black horse waited patiently while he mounted. He led them into the woods, and they rode at a brisk walk for awhile.

"Ready to canter?" he asked Liz, looking back at her.

"I think so." She nudged the horse with her heels, and he broke into a canter. She had never felt freer. She moved with the horse and everything came naturally to her. Merlin rode just ahead of her, leading the way into the woods.

They made good time and reached the rock within an hour. Merlin slowed his horse, and Liz followed suit as they moved into a small clearing. A large rock sat in the very center of the clearing and within the rock stood a sword. It glinted with the morning sunlight. The hilt was golden and the silver of the blade was in perfect condition. The middle of the blade was gold with ancient runes.

"What does it say?" Liz asked.

"Take me up. Cast me away," Merlin recited by heart.

"Is that a riddle?"

"Of sorts." He didn't elaborate, and Liz didn't ask.

"Now what?"

Merlin dismounted and Liz did the same. They left their horses to graze, approaching the stone. "We try to pull it out," he said.

…

Morgan stared at the man in front of her. A mixture of feelings welled up inside of her. Fear, surprise, hatred. No. She wouldn't give into that hatred. She steadied her shaking hands and looked straight at Uther.

"I don't suppose a simple phone call would have done."

Uther's face fell. "I know I shouldn't have sent my men like that."

"They drugged me out to bring me here. How is that supposed to make me feel?" Morgan asked heatedly.

"I was afraid if I announced myself that you'd refuse to see me. I have been searching for you for three years hoping beyond hope that you'd been given a second chance too. But it's my second chance to atone for what I did to you." Here he was apologizing to her, telling her he'd made a mistake. He was trying to take the second chance he'd been given. Did Morgan have it in her to forgive him though? She might not remember what he'd done to her firsthand, but Merlin's stories rang in her ears. What she found she remembered most, however, was the cruelty _she_ had shown _him_.

She took a deep breath. "I forgive you," she said. "And I am so sorry for what I did. It is unforgivable."

"You remember?" His face showed both hesitance and hope.

Morgan shook her head. "Someone told me."

Uther's lips turned down in a scowl. "Who?"

"A friend." She wasn't ready to give away her friends. She didn't trust Uther just yet. "I know what I did and what you did."

"I wanted to make sure that I got to you first before those who would seek to corrupt you." He began to pace.

"Like Morgause?" Uther hesitated for a second, his eyes flitting to Morgan.

"Yes. And others."

"You think I'll turn against you again." Did he have that little faith in her? Hadn't he wanted her forgiveness?

"Do you have magic in this life?" Uther asked her.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "I'm not the same person I was before though. I don't want to hurt anyone."

"I'm sure you never intended to hurt anyone. It was under Morgause's influence that you did." Uther gave her a look filled with compassion, but he had to know that it wasn't all Morgause. Morgana was just as much at fault if not more. She'd always had a choice, but she'd chosen wrong.

"Don't blame Morgause for my mistakes. She might have misled me, but after she died, I kept up my reign of terror. I sacrificed my own sister so I could kill Arthur." Her voice faltered, and she looked away from Uther. It wasn't that she was afraid of his judgment. Not anymore. It was that without her memories, she felt like she was making excuses for someone else. She wanted to scream that she'd never hurt anyone before, but that was Morgan, and Morgan didn't really exist. She was just a fabrication of this new world. A lie the second coming had concocted.

"Has Morgause tried to contact you in this life?" Uther asked gently.

Morgan didn't answer at once, but she didn't see the point in lying. "She did find me," she said. Uther clenched his fist. "She offered me safety. A place where people like me could learn to function in this world with their powers. But I agreed to nothing."

"Good. You can't trust her."

"She seemed changed. Does she know you're here?" Morgan asked.

"She will seem like whatever she has to in order to get you back on her side," Uther said. "And yes, we're aware of each other's presence. She's working with a sorceress named Nimueh. She is very dangerous, and you cannot trust her."

"If I am to atone for my mistakes, then you must at least try not to judge those with magic based solely on that," Morgan told him.

Uther looked chastised. "I'm trying to overlook my hatred for magic," he said. "But I cannot overlook the actions of certain sorcerers."

"What did Nimueh do?" Morgan asked.

"She took my wife Igraine," Uther said.

"She killed her?" Merlin hadn't mentioned this, but perhaps he didn't know or perhaps it wasn't relevant at the time.

"She traded her life for Arthur's. Igraine could not conceive and so I went to Nimueh to ask for a son. She granted me this, but she took Igraine's life to keep balance. I did not realize this would happen."

"She was a high priestess then."

"What do you know of them?" Uther asked sharply.

"I know that I was one. And Morgause. I know that they hold the power of life and death. Nothing more."

"I swear to you Morgana, I am trying to look past my hatred. This is not a world of magic. I would not turn against you."

"Would you have before?" Morgan had to ask. "If I had told you all those years ago that I had magic. What would you have done?"

A tense silence followed. Uther couldn't meet her eyes. "I would have still loved you as a daughter," he said.

"That doesn't answer my question."

"I could not ignore my own laws, but I would not have seen you killed," he said.

"So imprisoned? Banished? Or would you have hidden me away like some diseased child?" Even without her memories, Morgan felt the pent up resentment.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked.

"I want you to tell me that you would have loved me for who I was!" Morgan shouted. "I was your daughter. _Am_ your daughter. A parent should love a child no matter what. I can't help the way I was born."

"You're right," Uther said. "Of course you're right."

Morgan was surprised to find that she had tears in her eyes. "We've been given a second chance," she said softly. "Let's not turn against each other in this one."

"I want that more than anything." Uther took a step toward her, hesitant. Morgan wanted to shrink back for a moment but that was what Morgana would have done. She wanted to be different. She walked forward into his outstretched arms.

Even though she couldn't remember being Morgana, it felt good to have her father's arms wrapped around her. Through all the suffering they had put each other through in their last life, it was time to make amends. She knew she had to be careful, but what harm could there be in starting over? Perhaps she could be friends with Morgause as well. She didn't have to use her magic. In fact, she wouldn't. This was _her_ life. She would make it what she wanted it to be. She knew everything might change once she got her memories back, but for now she wanted to start healing past wounds.

"You are more dear to me than anything," Uther told her. "I will find Arthur and then we'll be a family once more."

"Do you know where he is?" Morgan asked as they pulled apart.

"One of my men saw Merlin heading to Avalon. He thinks Arthur is there."

"Avalon?" Morgan played innocent wanting to find out what Uther knew before she gave anything away.

"Yes. We must get to him first. We cannot let this Merlin get to him."

"Why? Merlin is Arthur's friend."

"Yes, but we do not know what his motives are."

"His motives? He wants to find his friend," Morgan told him.

"Maybe. I have reason to believe that Merlin is not all he seems."

"You mean you suspect he's a sorcerer?" Morgan asked. "Don't start that again. Merlin means Arthur no harm."

"Then you've spoken to him?"

"Yes. He and Amaryllis are going to find Arthur and awaken him."

A shadow passed over Uther's face. "This cannot play out as it did before. It did not end well."

"It won't," Morgan tried to assure him. "This time everything will be different."

"You trust him?" Uther asked her.

"Yes, I do." He'd given her no reason not to.

"I suppose he's the friend who told you about your past." Uther sounded disapproving.

"Yes."

"I'd feel safer with Arthur here. In the mean time, you'll stay here as well. I have a room for you that you'll be comfortable in."

"I'm expected to be at Liz – Amaryllis's flat though. My phone is there. She'll be calling soon."

"I'll have someone bring you everything you need. I'd feel safer with you here. There's no telling what lengths Nimueh and Morgause would go to to get you on their side."

"I can make my own decisions," Morgan said.

"I know that," Uther said. "You always did and you always will. Please. Just stay here for the night and you can decide in the morning if you want to leave or stay."

It was the middle of the night and so Morgan agreed. "But I want to get in contact with my friends tomorrow," she said.

"Of course. Your room is out the door and down the hall. Third door on the right. There's a buzzer on the wall if you need anything. It is so good to see you again, Morgana. We'll find Arthur, and we'll bet together as a family again."

"I'd like that." Morgan gave him a smile before leaving the room.

The bedroom Uther had designated for her was richly decorated, but Morgan hardly noticed as she collapsed onto the bed. She was fast asleep the moment her head touched the pillows, her mind still buzzing from her reunion with her father. That night her dreams played off the stories Merlin had told her, and Morgan was once again Morgana. Her hatred for Uther seethed, and Morgan tossed and turned, frantically trying to escape the confines of Morgana's hatred.

…

"Merlin and the girl are close to waking Arthur. Make sure once they've done so, you bring him to me," Uther told one of his men as soon as Morgana was safely tucked in bed.

"What of Merlin and the girl?" the man asked.

"Just see to it that they stay far away from him," Uther said. "Do whatever it takes. I will not have them corrupt my son again."


	16. The Sword in the Stone

**Author's Note:** Last chapter in part one! I've got a few chapters written in part two so far. I was hoping to have made more progress by now, but I have a lot of writing projects going, and I never seem to keep to my own writing goals. Never fear, I'll keep writing and start posting part two soon! Part two will answer a lot more questions and introduce more characters. I've got some ideas I'm excited to work with.

Thank you so much to my readers! I hope you are all enjoying. I so appreciate every follow, favorite, review, and anyone out there who is reading.

* * *

 **-Sixteen-**

 **The Sword in the Stone**

It was an incredible feeling standing inches away from Excalibur. Liz had scoffed at the replica on the wall at the White Dragon, but this…this was something entirely different. She could almost sense the magic wafting off of the blade. It had been forged in Dragon's breath, Merlin told her.

"On the count of three?" Merlin asked. Liz nodded. They stepped up, one on either side of the stone. Merlin met Liz's eyes and they shared a long moment while Liz summoned up her nerves. Then Merlin began to count. "One." What if she still didn't remember even after they pulled the sword out? "Two." What if they _couldn't_ pull the sword out? What if Arthur wouldn't wake? "Three." She wasn't ready, but they both grasped the sword and gave a heave. Liz saw Merlin's eyes flash amber and then everything went black.

…

 _Ryll was standing at the edge of a clearing across from a crowd of people. The knights of Camelot stood across from her and Byron stood at her side. Merlin and Arthur stood in the middle of the clearing next to the sword and the stone. The clearing was much the same otherwise, and it was surreal being back in time._

" _What's supposed to happen?" she whispered to Byron._

" _Only the once and future king of Camelot, the_ true _king, can pull the sword from the stone," Byron explained._

" _But it's stuck fast. I believe in Arthur, don't get me wrong, but pulling a sword out of solid stone is impossible." She sounded just as doubtful as Liz had felt._

" _Have a little faith. Maybe it's not you who needs convincing," Byron told her with a smile._

" _You need to believe in yourself," Merlin told Arthur, echoing Byron's thoughts._

 _The king looked unconvinced, but Ryll could tell how much he wanted to believe that. He put his hands around the sword and tried to pull it out. It would not budge. She watched the frustration wash over his face._

" _You need to believe in yourself," Merlin said. "Look at all those people. They look to you as their king. They believe in you. You are destined to be Albion's greatest king."_

 _Arthur tried again, but the sword still wouldn't give. He let go of the hilt._

" _Nothing, not even that rock can stand in the way." The conviction behind Merlin's words made Ryll's heart swell._

 _Arthur took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. Then he looked up at the people of Camelot. He wrapped his hands around the sword again and pulled. Ryll watched Merlin and saw his eyes glow amber for a moment. There was a loud grating as the sword came loose from the stone. Another heave and Arthur drew it out. It glinted in the afternoon sun. Arthur looked mildly surprised, but then his confidence grew as he faced his people._

 _Someone shouted 'Long live the king' and the call was contagious. Ryll felt a smile spread over her face as she shouted along with the people of Camelot. Merlin's eyes caught hers and she felt her heart give a twist._

 _The memory changed and now Ryll was standing on a battlefield. Arthur, Merlin, Morgana, and Mordred stood at her side. Heavy footfalls alerted them to the oncoming army and a murder of crows fled the scene across the field. Morgana and Arthur stepped in front of Ryll in unison, and Merlin squeezed her hand. Ryll could feel the uncertainty rushing through her veins. Someone was going to die today, but she did not know who. It could be Morgana whom she had finally helped save or Arthur whom she had fought so hard to keep alive. Merlin could die trying to protect her or Arthur as he always did. She'd already vowed to save them all. Today they would be a victory for Albion._

 _The king of the opposing army rode forward on a black horse. Sarrum. The name sprang into her mind. His men looked grim and some sported injuries. Ryll's memories were limited though, and she could not remember how they had sustained the injuries._

" _I have something of yours," Sarrum called out. He motioned into his ranks and two men appeared carrying what appeared to be a body. They threw it on the ground between the two armies. Time seemed to slow as the body rolled forward._ _Ryll gasped. It was Byron. A heavy black arrow protruded from his chest, and his face was pale in death. Merlin's hand tightened on hers. He had died for her – that thought rose in her mind. Whatever he had done, it had been for her._

" _Together," Merlin said and Ryll nodded mutely. What words could be said when her best friend was lying dead before them._

 _Arthur motioned to two of his men and they went forward to retrieve the body and bring it back_. _Ryll forced her emotions back. Now was the time to be strong. She had to be strong for Byron. For all her friends. The part of her that was still Liz marveled at her bravery. Maybe a part of her hadn't really believed it was possible for her to be a knight, but now she saw that Ryll wasn't afraid to die for her friends. And that was exactly what she'd done._

" _I see you've joined ranks with the witch," Sarrum said with a frown._

" _You're not welcome on this land, Sarrum," Arthur called back. "If you and your men leave now then we might spare your lives. If you stay then we will have no choice but to defend our land. You've taken one of ours, and someone will pay the price."_

" _You're taking the side of the druid boy?" Sarrum asked. "My how far the mighty have fallen. Your father would be so disappointed in his son."_

" _I am not my father, and this is my kingdom now," Arthur said. "I make my own choices. I choose to trust my friends no matter how they were born. Magic or not, it doesn't matter." Ryll's heart swelled with pride at his words. Seeing Morgana at his side gave her hope. She wished Morgan could see what she did. She wanted her to know how brave she'd been._

" _Hand over the key, and we'll leave," Sarrum said._

" _What key? There is no key to the future. You're chasing fairy tales," Arthur said._

" _Before their untimely death, my sorcerers told me of a powerful object that could change the course of the future." Ryll's memories stirred. This was what Merlin had told her about._ She _was the key. She was the one who had brought about the second coming._

" _You're consorting with sorcerers though you say you magic is evil and must be eradicated? You seem to be breaking your own laws, Sarrum."_

" _I know it's here. Everything has led me to Camelot. I thought the witch would know, but now I'm not so sure. Then I thought to myself, what if the object isn't an_ object _? What if the object is a_ person _instead? Someone who has the power to manipulate the future. One person shouldn't hoard all that power." Ryll wondered who the sorcerers were that Sarrum had consorted with. She hadn't even realized what she was or what power she'd held until the end but yet someone had heard of her and what she could do. Perhaps she, Merlin, and Morgana were not the only ones who had seen the future._

" _If you want her, you'll have to fight my army to get to her," Arthur said, moving in front of Morgana protectively. "I protect my family at any costs."_

" _You're siding with her after all she's done?" Sarrum asked. "I thought you'd thank me for keeping her a prisoner." Ryll could picture the pit Sarrum had kept Morgana in. Morgana and her white dragon. Ryll, Merlin, and Byron had rescued her. She was beginning to fill in the stories Merlin had told her with actual memories._

" _What you did was cruel. She's not ever going back there."_

" _Then I guess it's to be a battle after all because I'm not leaving without her."_

" _It's not-" Ryll started, but Merlin put a hand over her mouth shaking his head. She glared at him, but he wouldn't let go._

 _Arthur drew his sword and his knights followed suit. "Today we fight for freedom and for peace and for family!" Arthur shouted to his knights. "Today magic and sword will fight together as equals!" The knights cheered. "For Camelot!" Arthur charged, Morgana at his side. As he raised his sword, ready to strike down the enemy, Morgana let out a surge of magic that bowled over the enemy lines. Ryll ran beside Merlin and Mordred. Merlin had a sword, but Ryll saw him using magic when Arthur and the knights weren't looking. When they hit the enemy lines it was like sunset meeting night as red blended with black. Ryll unleashed her powers like she never had before, unafraid to use them in front of Arthur. It felt so natural and she ached to think of her powers being cut off. Enemies fell wherever she struck. Morgana came to fight by her side. Ryll felt a surge of hope. They could do this together. They were much stronger as a family._

 _The battle seemed to be going in Camelot's favor. Ryll had lost track of Sarrum, but now she went in search of him. When she caught sight of him, he was striding toward Arthur, taking down knights as he went. His eyes were set on the king, and his sword was running red with blood. Ryll threw a surge of magic at the enemy soldiers in her way and started for Sarrum. He was fighting Arthur now, swords flashing in the sunlight. Sarrum was a fierce fighter, but Arthur was better. He disarmed the king, and Ryll sent him to the ground with a push of magic._

" _Pick up your sword," Arthur said, standing over the king. "I will not fight you unarmed."_

" _He's mine," Ryll growled. "He killed Byron and now I'll kill him." As Liz, the idea of killing anyone would have been terrifying. She wasn't sure she could do such a thing let alone live with it. Amaryllis had grown up in a world where wars were fought and lives were taken. She would do whatever it took to keep her friends safe. The anger and hatred inside of her frightened the Liz part of her. Did Ryll ever feel remorse for the lives she'd taken?_

 _Sarrum looked up at her, recognition dawning on his face. "Ah, so you're the one who was shouting last night at my camp. Byron! Byron!" he mocked her frantic tones. Ryll clenched her teeth. She could see Byron's death now as her memories mixed. It was something she'd never forget._

 _She and Merlin stood at the edge of a camp. The only source of light was a great fire that separated Sarrum from Byron. Something shot through the air, and Byron threw up a magical shield the moment before a heavy bolt sliced through the fire. Instead of stopping the bolt, his shield wavered. Byron fell backwards onto the ground, a thick arrow protruding from his chest._

 _Time slowed as he fell, and Ryll watched the motion with no concept of what was happening. Her mind was blank. The fire crackled and fizzed where the arrow had sliced through it. The night was suddenly quiet, but that was because her ears were ringing with her own screams now._

" _NO!" she screamed aloud and lunged forward, the spell broken. She was aware of Merlin catching her around the waist and trying to haul her back. Ryll sent him flying away from her with a surge of magic. She screamed again and Sarrum's men collapsed around the king as she sent out a vicious stab of magic. She didn't care how many of them died. She wanted Sarrum. The king couldn't see her yet through the darkness, but he raised the bow again. The menacing click pierced the night like a knife. Ryll didn't care. She sent a rush of power at the great fire and suddenly the camp was burning and men were screaming. Sarrum stood still though, untouched by her attempts to kill him._

 _Liz was appalled by everything that was happening. This world was cruel. It made her false existence in the modern world seem like a fairy tale._

" _Go." Byron was speaking from the ground. Still alive. "Go!" Ryll looked down at her dying friend. He grew blurry as thick tears filled her eyes. "I did this for you. Don't you get killed too."_

" _No, no no!" she knelt down and cradled his head in her lap. She put a hand to his chest, and warm blood seeped into her skin. She sent out a healing spell, but nothing seemed to work. She cried in frustration. Why couldn't she heal him? "It wasn't supposed to happen this way." None of her visions had prepared her for this. What was the use of seeing the future if she couldn't stop her friends from dying?_

 _"You have the chance to change it," Byron told her softly. "In the future. Everyone will have a second chance at happiness. Maybe this life was always too far-gone. You'll understand soon. I can see it already." His eyes were staring straight up. The camp had gone silent and it was as if Ryll and Byron were in their own world far apart from Sarrum and his army. She looked up and saw a light shining brightly, opening wider like a crack. "We'll meet again," Byron told Ryll. "You might not remember me at first, but we'll meet again."_

 _He knew. He had known about the second coming. Liz grappled to understand. He hadn't remembered her either. Despite all they'd been through together, despite him_ dying _for her, she'd forgotten him and he her._

 _His eyes reflected the brightness above as Ryll looked down at him. They were suddenly glassy though a smile still touched his lips. He'd stopped breathing. Ryll started sobbing, burying her face in his hair. Then she felt hands pulling her away._

" _Byron!" She tried to reach him again, but Merlin had her in his grasp again. He dragged her back as she screamed Byron's name over and over. Sarrum sent a group of men at them, but Merlin fended them off with his magic, sending them reeling backwards. They didn't get up again. Merlin dragged Ryll onto his horse with her, calling for Owl to follow. Ryll was sobbing uncontrollably now. She felt as if her heart had been wretched out of her chest and doused in dragon's flames. Byron was dead because of her. This was her fault._

 _Her sobs lessened and her vision went red with anger. "Tomorrow he dies," she hissed. "Tomorrow I'm going to kill him."_

 _Ryll was back on the battlefield facing Sarrum. Byron's death was fresh in her mind and Liz found herself cheering Ryll on."You have no idea what you've done," she said._

" _And I have no time for little girls who play at being sorceresses. Step aside so I can fight your king." He reached for his sword._

" _Let me fight him, Ryll," Arthur said. "Ryll?"_

 _Ryll stood seething as Sarrum got to his feet. "He doesn't deserve a noble death after what he did," she said._

" _But we're not like him," Arthur reminded her softly. "We're better than that."_

 _The vision shifted once more and now Sarrum was on his horse again. She remembered the illusion – it had been a sorcerer that Arthur had fought and killed, not the real king._ _Sarrum held a crossbow in his hand with the familiar black bolts. Ryll's vision was turning real. "It's time to purge magic from this world once and for all," Sarrum said. "Hand over the key." His eyes snagged on Morgana. Arthur stepped in front of his sister._

" _I won't let you take her," he said._

" _I'm not leaving here without her!" Sarrum shouted. "How many more of your men will die before you hand her over?"_

 _Ryll opened her mouth to tell Sarrum it was her, not Morgana he wanted, but suddenly Merlin was shouting, "I'm the one you want!" Both kings looked at him in surprise. "Morgana has nothing to do with this." Arthur looked confused and shocked while Sarrum narrowed his eyes in understanding._

" _Merlin, no!" Ryll shouted, staring at him wide-eyed. Sarrum looked between the two of them. "It's not-"_

" _She's just trying to protect me. My name is Emrys, and I'm the one you want." He stepped in front of Ryll, setting his eyes on Sarrum in a challenge._

" _You hold the power to change the future?" he asked. Merlin nodded. Ryll tried to protest, but Merlin wouldn't let her. "I do, and in my future magic is strong." He stepped away from Ryll, closer to Sarrum, distancing the king's gaze from her. Ryll could see how much he loved her. He was willing to die for her just as she had died for him. The uncertainty in her heart was melting away, and she could_ feel _how much she loved him in return. Their love was something that death could not keep at bay nor the centuries that had passed._

" _Thank you for revealing who you really are," Sarrum said bringing Ryll back to the present. "That makes this so much easier." He raised his crossbow and fired. Ryll watched in slow motion as the bolt sliced_ _straight toward Merlin. Time seemed to slow, and she saw Byron dying over and over. This couldn't happen again. Not to Merlin. Anyone but Merlin._

 _Her feet were running though she hadn't been aware of moving. She watched the progression of the black arrow. She saw Merlin's eyes glow amber as he tried to stop its progression._

 _It all happened in a matter of seconds. She heard Arthur shout her name and then splitting pain filled her body, and she was falling, falling, falling. This time it was like she was watching for a distance. She saw her throw her body in front of the arrow, saw it sink into her chest. Then she saw the look on Merlin's face. Her breath snagged in her throat. She'd never seen anything so horrible or heartbreaking. She watched as she fell to the ground. Merlin fell to his knees, cradling Ryll against him. He shouted her name over and over. Ryll lay, unconscious, in his arms for a half a minute before opening her eyes again. Arthur looked shocked. Morgana knelt next to Merlin, crying softly. Ryll was back in her body, no longer floating above the scene. She could feel the pain from the arrow._

 _Merlin was sobbing now. He looked up at Sarrum. "You monster!" he shouted. He held his hand out and magic surged from him like a tidal wave. Sarrum's eyes widened before the magic struck him. He was knocked straight off his horse, dead before he hit the ground. Half of Sarrum's men fell too leaving the battlefield in shocked silence. Arthur was staring at Merlin now._

" _You…you have magic?" the words came out as hurt, but Merlin had already turned his attention back to Ryll._

" _You weren't supposed to get hurt," he said. "I'll heal you. I'll make this right."_

" _I don't think you can," Morgana said softly from his side. "That arrow was enchanted. It was forged in dragon's fire. It's fatal. There's nothing we can do."_

" _That's not true! I can heal her!"_

 _Ryll felt magic warming her side, but Morgana was right. The arrow was already poisoning her, and she could feel herself starting to drift away. She forced herself back. "This isn't the end," she said, forcing the words out. "It's only the beginning."_

" _What do you mean?" Merlin asked._

" _I die so that everyone can have a second chance. I die so that I can see you again."_

" _No, no! I'm not losing you! You're not going anywhere!" Merlin held her close to him._

" _I'm going to make a future where no one is afraid. Where everyone has a place. Then we'll be together. We'll have our life." She felt her eyelids closing and forced them open. She had been to Avalon in that half a minute. She'd seen her mother and Lancelot. She could feel the water pulling her back, pulling her away from Merlin._

 _She turned her eyes to Arthur. "Arthur, it's been an honor serving you. All I ever wanted when I was younger was to become a knight, and you made that come true. You are a strong king, and you will unite Albion." Arthur knelt beside her and took her hand._

" _Morgana," Ryll said, turning to her friend. "You have a place here. You have a second chance right now. Take it." Morgana nodded, tears streaming down her face._

" _Merlin." She turned to Merlin. This would be the saddest goodbye. "We will see each other again. I was brought here for a reason. For this."_

" _No. This isn't right. Why can't we have our second chance right now?" he asked. Tomorrow was a special day. Tomorrow… Ryll remembered the ring. The ring Liz wore around her neck. It wasn't an heirloom; it hadn't belonged to her mother. It was an engagement ring. She and Merlin were to be married the next day. But she'd died. She'd left him all alone. "Why do you have to leave me?" he asked her._

" _Because we're both going to be needed in the future. If I stay now then Albion will fall apart later."_

" _I don't care about later! I care about now!"_

" _You're immortal, Merlin. You'll be there to see Albion fall apart."_

" _Then we'll save it together."_

" _Will you wait for me?" she asked softly, her voice failing her._

" _I'll wait for you," he'd told her. "Always."_

" _Good," she'd said. "Because I'm coming back for you." She felt herself slipping again, and this time she could not fight it. "Take my body to Avalon," she whispered. "I'll be safe there until it's time for me to return again." She felt Arthur pressing something into her hand. It was her sword. She smiled and looked at Merlin one more time. Then she saw the light up above her; the same light that had lit Byron's eyes even in death. The world fell away, and she was drifting away into the light with the hope of a different future ahead of her. The hope for a second chance. The last thing she heard was Merlin calling out her name over and over as if he could call her back from death, but she was already there._

…

Merlin caught Ryll as she fell, dropping Excalibur on the ground. Right after they'd pulled the blade out of the stone, her eyes had gone glassy and rolled into the back of her head. She lay unconscious now and though he shook her gently, she wouldn't wake. He could feel his powers surging within him and realized that the sword had reawakened them. It was imbued with the great dragon's power and though the dragon was now dead, his power lived on in the sword. What effect had it had on Ryll then if it had strengthened his powers?

She was out cold for nearly ten minutes. Merlin held her, stroking her brow and praying that she'd be all right. He remembered holding her in his arms when she'd died and a fear took over him. Then her eyelids fluttered, and she looked up at him. "Ryll! Are you all right?" he asked. "You were unconscious for nearly ten minutes."

"Merlin, I remember," she said softly, looking up at him with glowing eyes.

"Remember? What do you remember?" he asked, hardly daring to hope.

She placed a hand on his cheek, and his heart gave a jolt. "Everything," she said. "I remember everything."

…

Morgan awoke with a start and felt a surge of emotions roiling through her. She had a splitting headache and rubbed her temples to try to subdue the pain. Memories suddenly invaded her mind, and she fell back onto the bed, overwhelmed by the painful rush. When she opened her eyes again, her headache was gone and she remembered everything from her past life. She was no longer Morgan. She was Morgana. The room felt too small, and she got out of bed and tried the door. The door wouldn't budge. She tried again but it was locked. Uther had locked her in.

Morgana felt anger surge up inside of her and before she could control it, the door broke open. She had burned the lock clean off. Scorch marks blotched the doorframe and smoke rose up from the metal knob. Morgana felt her powers spiraling out of control as she stepped into the dark corridor.


	17. Regrets

**Author's Note:** Here begins part two! I'm not done writing it, but I'll try to pace it and keep writing so you don't have to wait a long time. As always, thank you so much for reading! I'm excited to get more into the plot.

* * *

 **Part Two: Alliances**

 **-Seventeen-**

 **Regrets**

The sword lay on the backseat of Merlin's sedan, glinting in the afternoon sun. Ryll couldn't take her eyes off of Merlin though. She couldn't believe that she'd been with him all this time and yet hadn't truly remembered who he was. He was grinning and hadn't stopped since she had told him she remembered everything. They'd returned the horses they'd borrowed and were on their way back to Avalon to wake Arthur.

"So the sword was the key to me remembering and it will be the key to waking Arthur," Ryll said.

"It seems like it. I don't know why I didn't think of the stone before. It's the obvious place for it to be. Even the tour guide at the Camelot museum mentioned that the legends said it might be there."

"You had a lot on your mind," Ryll told him. "Maybe this was the right time and before wasn't."

"It's just good to have you back," he told her.

"It's good to be back," she said. She fingered her nose ring. "What _was_ I thinking?" she asked woefully. "Liz was a little out of control. But I guess she was me…"

"You without your true memories. I would have gone a little crazy too."

"Okay, she wasn't _crazy_ , just a little insecure. I should call Morgan – Morgana. Do you think she remembers too?"

"I'm not sure."

"I hope you don't still think she's going to go dark side again. I know she wants to change."

"If anyone can turn her around, it's you," Merlin told her.

Ryll pulled out her phone and dialed Morgana's number. The phone rang. And rang. No one answered so she left a message. "Morgan, this is Ryll. I remember everything now. We found the sword and are headed back to Avalon to wake Arthur. This should work. Give me a call back when you get this message."

"Where do you suppose she is?" she asked Merlin after she'd hung up.

"I'm not sure. Maybe she just went out for a bit."

"Maybe." Ryll bit her lip.

"She'll be fine, she can take care of herself," he assured her. "So how do you feel about all of this now that you're Ryll again?" he asked.

"What am I supposed to say? I feel amazing! I'm alive again. This is my second chance – _our_ second chance to live." She felt like she could do anything and her heart soared.

"You're not dying in this lifetime. Not anytime soon," Merlin said fiercely.

"I don't plan to," Ryll assured him, putting a hand on his where it rested on the gearstick. He wove his fingers with hers, and she smiled. "This is our chance at a lifetime together," she said. "I'm so sorry for what I put you through. So sorry for leaving you."

"Everyone was devastated." His grip tightened on her hand.

"I'm not going anywhere," she promised.

"Good because I couldn't stand it if you did."

"What is Arthur going to think of this world?" Ryll asked suddenly. "Everyone else was at least awakened with memories – even if they were false memories – of a past. I know what cars and electricity and indoor plumbing are. Arthur, as far as we know, is in the same state as when he died. Only younger, obviously. And not dead."

"He's going to have a lot of surprises ahead of him, and we both know how he feels about surprises," Merlin said.

"Yeah, let's just hope there aren't any buckets nearby," Ryll said. Merlin laughed, and it was the loveliest sound she had heard in this lifetime.

…

When Avalon came into view the second time, Ryll recognized it with a pang. Her last memory of it as Ryll was standing in the waters with her mother and Lancelot. With the dead. She knew it had just been a dream, but it had felt so real. All her false memories had vanished to be replaced with real memories. It was still strange because she _had_ lived the last three years in the modern world. Everything still made sense. Cars weren't suddenly the strangest things she'd ever seen and she still wanted to finish the latest season of Downton Abbey, but her life had much more meaning. She had thought the emptiness would vanish when her memories returned but instead she felt the press of all the years she'd missed.

"I missed our wedding," she said softly, fingering the ring around her neck.

Merlin's grip tightened on the wheel. "It was bad timing," he said, trying to make light of it, but she could see the pain written clearly on his face.

"I always swore to protect my friends no matter what the cost to myself. I thought I was thinking about them, but really I was just afraid to lose them. To lose you. In the end _you_ lost _me_. I hurt you."

"Not on purpose."

"That's no excuse. I was selfish." She pulled the ring from around her neck. "I wouldn't blame you if you'd had enough of me and my actions. I never thought, I just ran out and tried to save the world and everyone in it. _You_ were the chosen one to unite Albion. I just walked right over your destiny and changed everything."

"You helped me fulfill my destiny. Without you, Morgana and Arthur would have kept trying to kill each other. Believe me, I have regrets too. The modern world has given me an entirely different perspective on, well, everything. I realize how much time we spent at war. It was literally _always_ something. There was always some _one_ trying to kill Arthur. I started to think about why. Why did someone always have it out for him? Was it because Uther was his father and he executed so many people with magic or was it something else entirely? I realized that for a long time, Camelot didn't change. It was only after you told Arthur you had magic that things started to change."

"Not right away."

"No, but before that anything was just a nice thought. It was never going to happen. Arthur wasn't his father, but things stayed the same for people with magic even after Uther died. I kept thinking, what if I had told Arthur that _I_ had magic? What would have happened? Could I have changed his views on magic sooner? He didn't find out until I lashed out at Sarrum. He had no idea up until the end."

"You did what you thought was best. He might not have taken it well had you told him sooner. You were his most trusted friend whether he'd admit it or not," Ryll told him. "He wasn't ready for the truth. Not from you."

"But I used that excuse every time. Every time I had the chance to tell him, I didn't. I should have. I was being selfish too."

"You weren't being selfish, you were trying to stay alive in a kingdom that executed people with magic."

"Yeah, but how many people died because I did nothing?"

"You did plenty!" Ryll protested. "How can you say that?"

"I looked out for Arthur, which I don't regret. But I should have been looking out for my people too."

"You did. You looked out for me. You saved plenty of people with magic, risking your own life in the process. Where is all this coming from anyway?"

Merlin sighed. "I don't know. I've just had a lot of long years to think."

"I can't imagine." Being immortal. Watching loved ones die. Being alone.

"I just wonder if we really lived up to the legends. Everyone knows who Merlin and Arthur are, but they don't _really_ know us. They don't know what we really went through or who we really were."

"You don't think you're a hero?" Ryll asked.

"I think people want to make me out to be one," he told her. "They're legends for a reason."

"And Arthur? And the knights?" Ryll asked. "Are they not heroes?"

"History has chosen to forget the dark parts. It's not just villains and heroes like the books make it out to be. A lot of good people died on both sides, some by the hand of Arthur and the knights. But history only remembers those Morgana killed. She was the villain. The books don't mention that she was also a hero too."

"History isn't always correct. What matters is we know where we came from. We know the truth. Everyone makes mistakes. It doesn't mean Arthur isn't a hero. It just means he's human like the rest of us."

"Maybe heroes don't really exist."

"And maybe villains don't either. The world isn't black and white much as the movies like to paint it as such."

"I guess what I'm really afraid of is that Arthur is going to wake up in a time where he might not have a place as a hero. Everything has changed. Today it's a crime to murder and yet how many people did Arthur kill? How many people did I kill? Today that doesn't make a hero."

"Soldiers take lives to protect their countries. If taking lives makes someone a villain then I'm one too. We're all one. Medieval Times were harsh. Camelot has a dark side to it that we don't hear about in the legends. Maybe Arthur doesn't have the same role in this time as he did before, but maybe this time we need a different kind of hero."

"Like who?" Merlin asked.

"I don't know yet. What is this really about?" Ryll gave Merlin a concerned look. She was still trying to come to terms with her own memories and her awakening in the 21st century, but Merlin had been awake for all of it. He'd lived lifetime after lifetime. He might look just as young as he had been when she'd died, but he had lived through too much to have a young soul anymore. "Merlin?"

Merlin slowed the car and pulled over to the side of the road, shifting into park. He sat in silence for a moment and Ryll let him, waiting until he was ready to talk. "I've had so many years – centuries – to regret. I've thought about what went wrong, what I'd do differently, what kind of world would need Arthur and me in it. I know regretting something we can't change is a waste of time, but I wanted to make sure nothing went wrong this time around. I guess I'm just not sure if I have a right to try to make things right this time because I messed so many things up before."

"You think you're going to mess up the second coming?" Ryll asked.

"I worked so hard to ensure Arthur lived, but in this life I don't know what I'm fighting for, who I'm supposed to be fighting against. You see? That's the problem. I'm not sure how to function in this modern world with the people I knew centuries ago. I don't know how to make Camelot work. You told me it was a second chance for everyone, but I didn't die. I don't need a second chance. I might have learned of the second coming through the Crystal Caves, but I don't think I'm supposed to be part of this second chance."

"Of course you are, Merlin. This is _our_ second chance." She took his hand, weaving her fingers through his. "None of us were ever perfect. We all made poor choices and someone always had to pay for them, but that's life. I think we were too focused on who was good and who was bad. Who was the hero and who was the villain. That's not what's important though. Sometimes making the right decision is simply choosing the best of multiple bad choices. We don't always get an easy choice or a clear idea of what's right or wrong. The past is the past. It doesn't matter anymore who we were because this is the future and the world has changed into something none of us would ever have dreamt up. Now we have to figure out what we do with what we've been given. This is a fresh start, a clean slate. Maybe there are people reawakening with grudges, maybe we still have enemies who haven't found it in their hearts to forgive us. We do the best we can. We're going to make mistakes, but we learn and move on. We can't dwell on the past. You need to forgive yourself and focus on finding happiness now. Maybe we _aren't_ the heroes of this story. Maybe we're just here to watch it all play out. I just know I'm happy to be here."

Merlin looked at her, and his eyes were glistening. He smiled. "Maybe I've been so focused on righting everything that went wrong centuries ago that I forgot that this was a new chance."

"We're going to go bring Arthur his sword and then we're going to keep him safe and find out just what we're meant to do and who else is out there. We might have completely different roles in this lifetime, but that's all right. As long as we're together, we already have a purpose. Just the gift of living again is a purpose in itself."

"You're right." Merlin shifted into drive. "Let's go get Arthur."


	18. The End of Magic

**Author's Note:** Thank you for the favorites and follows and reviews! I really appreciate it! I'm going to try to keep consistently posting a chapter a week. I'm challenging myself to post in both my current stories at the same time, so I think that might actually keep me on track. I'm slowly getting ahead on my writing in this story too, so hopefully no long gaps between chapters!

* * *

 **-Eighteen-**

 **The End of Magic**

"Morgana?" The voice stopped Morgana in her tracks. The dark corridor didn't allow for any light, so she used magic to light the fixtures around her.

A man with dark hair and familiar brown eyes was standing before her. It must have been late – or early – but he was fully dressed. Morgana recognized him in an instant, the memory of their last meeting igniting her mind with pain. He had every reason to hate her and therefore every reason to stop her. She readied herself for a fight. She would not be kept here. She couldn't trust herself with her powers saturating her senses.

"Get out of my way, Lancelot," she told him. "I don't want to hurt you." Of course she already had. He wouldn't have forgotten even if it was centuries ago.

"You're not safe here," was all he said. He didn't move closer to her, but he didn't seem afraid either. She thought he would have learned.

"You're the one who isn't safe," she told him. "I can't control my magic right now."

"I know. It's all overwhelming. I remember when I first woke up."

"You remember your past though? How? Before tonight I was Morgan."

"It's a long story," he said with a sigh.

"Why do I even have my memories back?" Morgana asked. "Why now?"

"Something's happening," Lancelot replied. "I need to get you out of here."

Morgana's magic flickered, dimming the halls for a moment. "You're going to help me?" she asked. "Why?"

"Because right now you're a danger to yourself and being near Uther isn't going to help that," he said, this time taking a step forward. Morgana backed away.

"Don't you mean I'm a danger to you and everyone else?" she asked, unable to keep the note of derision out of her voice.

"Morgana, you've _always_ been more of a threat to yourself than anyone else," Lancelot told her. "Now, come with me before anyone wakes up."

"Why are you working with Uther?" Morgana asked as she followed Lancelot down the corridor. She doused the lights and let him guide her. When they rounded a bend, the halls were suddenly flooded with moonlight from the windows set in the walls.

"It wasn't my choice," Lancelot told her. "I was forced."

"Why are you helping me? You have every right to hate me after what I did to you."

"I do, but I don't. I don't hate you Morgana." He looked at her, brown eyes brushing her face. "You changed, and that's what matters. Right now everything is confused. People are waking up with purposes they don't understand or with no memory of who they used to be at all. Everyone is scrambling to find allegiances, but they don't yet understand that the world doesn't work that way anymore. We're not a big enough part of it anymore."

"Then how do you think things should go?" Morgana asked as she and Lancelot headed down a flight of stairs.

"I think everyone should get along," Lancelot told her simply. "But I know that isn't possible."

"Only because none of us ever tried to make it possible," Morgana said softly. "But everything has changed, you said it yourself. There is no kingdom for Uther to rule, there is no army waiting at his beck and call."

"Some of the other knights did come back," Lancelot told her.

"And they work for Uther?" Morgana asked. Were they really talking about armies and war already? So much for second chances.

"No. They work for Arthur," Lancelot said firmly. "They believe in the new world Arthur was trying to build. We were all awakened with a purpose – find Arthur and protect him."

"So you weren't planted with false memories?" Morgana asked bitterly.

"No. Somehow we woke up with the knowledge of this modern world and our old memories. In death we were given a purpose though – the same purpose we always had. This world is nothing like what Arthur is used to. He'll need guidance and help to adjust."

"Do you know why he's coming back?" Morgana asked. "Is it really all about second chances or is there something more than that?"

"It's about uniting Albion," Lancelot said. "It always has been. Arthur is the key to that, but so are you."

"Me?"

"Two sides of the same coin. You and Arthur, sister and brother, magic and non-magic."

"But before, in our last life, we did make peace," Morgana said.

"You did, but magic began to fail anyway. The peace came too late and it was unstable. You left Camelot after a time and hid away from the world. A few generations later Camelot was overtaken by Saxons. Without magic, none of us have a place in this world. Uther doesn't see that."

"I knew he was lying when he said he didn't care that I had magic anymore. That he wanted to love me as his daughter no matter who or what I was."

"It's not that," Lancelot said. "He _does_ accept who you are. But that isn't going to stop him from trying to eliminate what he thinks is the problem once and for all."

"What do you mean?"

Lancelot paused, turning to face her. "Uther wants to destroy magic," he told her. "Once and for all."

Morgana blinked at him. "But he can't do that, can he? It's not some corporeal object he can strike down with his sword."

"I don't know how he's going to do it," Lancelot admitted. "He doesn't tell me much. But I know he's confident he's found a way. He thinks he can cure you like magic is a sickness."

Morgana was quiet for a long moment. A world without magic. What would her life have been like if she'd never been born with it? She wouldn't have been so frightened of Uther finding out her secret. She might have stayed in Camelot. She might have lived a happier life. But then she would never have had the confidence to stand up to Uther. He might have kept her true parentage a secret.

"We need to warn someone," Morgana said. "Take me to my sister, please."

"That's where I was going to take you," Lancelot said, surprising Morgana. He held a door open for her and they entered a garage. He motioned to a black sports car and she got in.

"Why?" she asked. "Isn't that the last place you'd want me?"

"It's the last place _Uther_ would want you, but he doesn't know you've left your room." Lancelot gave her a small smile as he backed the car out of the garage.

"Why are you helping me?" Morgana asked again.

"Because I want this life to be better than the last for all of us. Right now you need to be around people who can help you control your magic. You haven't used it in a long time. Right now it's like when you first realized you had powers."

"I kept setting my curtains on fire."

"I figured your sister might be the right person to make you feel safe."

"Thank you." She was surprised that he'd thought of that. Surprised that he was helping her. "I'm sorry for what I did," she told him. "When I summoned you as a wraith. It was cruel."

"It was a long time ago."

"But I haven't forgotten it, and I'm sure you haven't either."

"Morgana, this is a second chance for all of us," Lancelot said, glancing at her for a moment before turning his eyes back to the road. "Just don't mark your father off just yet. He thinks he can fix everything, fix _you_ , but he needs to realize that nothing was broken in the first place."

"Good luck convincing him to change," Morgana said derisively.

"Oh, I'm not going to change his mind," Lancelot told her. "You are."

…

"I just realized something," Ryll said as they neared Avalon. "The man who came looking for me in the White Dragon – that was Lancelot."

Merlin glanced at her. "Lancelot?" There was hope in his voice. "Did you see him again after that?"

Ryll shook her head. "No. But if he was looking for me, does that mean he had his memories?"

"It might."

"I still don't understand why some people have their memories but others don't. Especially if I'm the one who was tied most directly into the second coming."

"I hope that will all be cleared up sooner or later," Merlin said. "I should know more too, but I don't."

"Something just occurred to me. If you retained your memories because you were alive this whole time and Morgana forgot hers…" There was a heavy silence for a moment. "What happened to her? Did she…did she die?"

"I don't know," Merlin admitted. "Not that I knew of, but after she left Camelot I never saw her again."

"If she has her memories back, then she should be able to tell us. I just wish I could talk to her."

"She'll be all right. She's strong," Merlin assured her.

" _I_ know that. I'm just not sure she knows it."

…

As it turned out, Uther had been keeping Morgana in the restored castle on the hilltop in White Castle. He'd found a castle to lord over after all. Lancelot drove Morgana down into the sleeping city, pulling up outside of the A.V.A.L.O.N. Agency.

"Just be careful," Lancelot told her as Morgana opened the car door. "I know Morgause and Nimueh would never harm you, but I'm not sure what their motives are yet. They still see Uther as a threat just as he sees them as a threat."

"A threat to what? This isn't our world anymore," Morgana said bitterly.

"Not yet," Lancelot replied. "Just don't let old hatreds ruin your chance at happiness."

"I won't," Morgana promised him. "I've had enough of hatred for one lifetime. Maybe Uther deserves my hatred, but I don't deserve what hatred does to a person. Not anymore. I want to be different."

"If anyone has the strength to change, it's you, Morgana," Lancelot told her.

"How are you so sure?" she asked softly. There was nothing cold in his brown eyes, just an understanding. They hardly knew each other. How could he know that she was strong?

"Because I remember being a wraith, and I remember seeing a girl who was pretending she had no heart when really it had just been broken by the ones she'd once cared about. Someone who's stopped caring altogether doesn't hurt the way you did."

"But I hurt other people in return for that hurt I felt."

"Don't let them turn you into someone you're not, Morgana."

Morgana finally tore her eyes from his and got out of the car. He waited until she'd knocked on the door and been let in. Despite the late hour, Morgause was there to greet Morgana.

"Nimueh saw you coming," she said in way of explanation. "I should have known Uther would try something like that. Are you okay? Why was one of his men driving you here?" Her eyes were daggers, but Morgana could see she was just worried.

"It's all right, really," she said. "I'm just tired. Lancelot kept me from losing control. He's a friend."

"He's working for Uther," Morgause said sharply.

"Against his will." Morgana was feeling suddenly drained, and her sister seemed to notice.

"Come, sister," she said. "Let me take you to your room. You'll be safe here."

Morgana's magic didn't feel so out of control now. She let the tension leave her shoulders as she followed Morgause up to the third story of the building and into a modern room with a wide, comfortable bed.

"I'm right next door if you need anything," Morgause told her.

"Why do I remember who I am?" Morgana asked before her sister could leave. "An hour ago I was still Morgan, but now I remember being Morgana. I remember everything."

"I'm not sure," Morgause admitted.

"Lancelot said that something was happening. Do you think Arthur has been found?" She wondered if Ryll had been trying to call her. Her phone was back at Ryll's flat.

"It's possible."

Morgana sat down on the edge of the bed, and Morgause joined her. When she had been Morgan, she hadn't realized just how much she'd missed her sister. Now she leaned her head against Morgause's shoulder, and her sister wrapped an arm around her. "What happens when he comes back?"

"Then we see if he remembers your friendship or if he sides with his father," Morgause said.

"Why is it always about sides? We've all been brought to this new world, and yet we're already working against each other."

"There can never be peace when both sides fear and hate each other," Morgause told her.

"Do you hate Arthur?" Morgana asked her sister.

"I hate Uther for what he did to you, and Arthur is his father's son."

"But he's not. He's different. He proved that when he forgave me even after everything I did to him. He wants peace too. We had it. I don't remember why I left Camelot now. Ryll was gone, and I guess it didn't feel like home anymore somehow. I don't remember much after that. Just a loneliness that never seemed to disappear."

"Do you remember how you got here?"

"No. I don't remember dying but I don't remember living. Do you know what happened to me?" Morgana asked. She was frightened to fill in the blank spaces, but she needed to know.

"When you realized you were immortal, that you weren't going to die like Arthur and Gwen and everyone in Camelot, you despaired. Aithusa, your white dragon, had been shot down by hunters. You were alone. You cast a spell that took every bit of magic within you. You put yourself into a permanent sleep until the Second Coming came to wake you. _You_ made yourself forget your past, Morgana. _You_ made yourself anew. You were afraid you'd make the same mistakes again, so you forged a new identity for yourself."

"I don't remember that. I don't remember giving up all hope."

"You're back now. You don't ever have to be alone again. I won't leave you," Morgause promised.

"Then you can't fight Uther," Morgana told her, lifting her head to meet her sister's eyes. "I can't lose you again. Please don't go against him."

"I'm here to protect you," Morgause said. "That will always come first and foremost."

"Then protect me from myself. I can't become the same monster I was before."

"Sister, don't ever think you were a monster," Morgause said, taking her hands. "That's not true. Uther was the monster. You did what you had to do."

"Perhaps. Perhaps we both were. I was my father's daughter after all." She'd been more like Uther in her past life than Arthur had ever been. That was clear to her now frightening a thought as it was. "Arthur might have learned from Uther, but he had his mother's heart. I might have had our mother's magic, but I had Uther's cruel ambition and blind prejudice. If my past life taught me anything it was that nothing's ever black and white. It isn't a matter of good and evil. People are more complicated than that. More complicated than the history books and myths make us out to be. They would categorize us as villain or hero, but it's not that simple."

"This new Morgana you've forged is different," Morgause said, giving Morgana a long look.

"I think she still has a little of Morgan in her," Morgana said. "And I don't think that's a bad thing."

Morgause looked thoughtful. "Perhaps not," she said. "Morgan hasn't known hate and loss yet. I wish I could give that to Morgana."

Morgana smiled. "This is a clean slate, isn't it? Maybe I can get that back."

"I hope so. Try to get some sleep." Morgause kissed her temple and stood. "I'll be right next door if you need me."

After Morgause left Morgana remembered Lancelot's words of warning about Uther's plan to eradicate magic. Maybe she should keep it to herself until she knew more. It would do no good to turn Nimueh and Morgause against Uther so completely at the beginning of their second chance. She lay down on the bed, the magic in her veins much calmer than before. As she tried to fall asleep, she made a promise to herself that she would never be lonely enough to want to leave the world forever. This time she wasn't going to push her friends away. They were stronger together. Now she just needed to find a way to unite them and save the magic. If there was any way to save Uther, then she would do it, but if he was determined to destroy magic then he was going to make enemies of them all.


	19. Awakening

**-Nineteen-**

 **Awakening**

"The time tables have moved," Uther said to the men assembled before him the following afternoon. Morgana's escape in the night had been discovered when she'd been brought breakfast. Uther had been devastated. "She's frightened – with her magic back she could get herself into trouble," he'd said, sending Lancelot off to find her. Of course Lancelot knew just where she was, but he put forth an effort to look for her, driving around in the early hours of the morning. Uther hadn't been happy when he'd returned alone, but he'd moved onto business quickly.

"We need to destroy the caves sooner than later. Once magic is destroyed, I'll have my daughter back and Nimueh and Morgause will be powerless. Double your efforts."

Lancelot's attention piqued at the mention of 'the caves.' He wasn't sure if they were a particular set of caves or where they were but it was more than he'd known before. Uther's men nodded and moved off to obey their king's orders. Lancelot wasn't sure where Uther had found them. When he'd awoken, he'd found himself already under Uther's control. He wasn't a wraith and he had some level of free will, but when Uther pulled, Lancelot was like a puppet with strings firmly in Uther's grasp. He suspected the other men were under the same influence as him. He hesitated to call it magic, but he had no idea what Uther would or wouldn't do to achieve his goal. Perhaps it took magic to destroy magic.

"I have a feeling that Morgana went straight to Morgause and Nimueh," Uther confided in Lancelot once the others had left. "We can't let her half sister influence her the way she did before."

"Morgana is frightened," Lancelot told him. "You need to show her that you really do accept her for who she is. I'm not sure destroying magic will accomplish that."

"Without magic there will be nothing wrong with her, and Morgause and Nimueh will be powerless. I can't lose her again."

Lancelot wanted to point out that there was nothing wrong with Morgana now, but he kept that thought to himself. "Just be careful you don't drive her away when you're trying to 'fix' her," he said.

"Do you think you know my own daughter better than me?" Uther said, rounding on Lancelot.

"No, sire, of course not."

"Good. Keep an eye on Nimueh and her kind. If you see Morgana, get her back here by any means. It's best for her."

Lancelot bowed, leaving the room. He had no intention of forcing Morgana back here. Things were getting out of hand; it was time to call in help.

…

When they reached the waters, Ryll was feeling nervous. It felt strange awakening King Arthur in a time when Camelot was lying in ruins. She wasn't entirely sure what their next step would be once they retrieved Arthur. Take him somewhere safe. Probably explain a few things about the 21st century first like cars and electricity. She was glad she hadn't woken up with no understanding of this new world. She couldn't imagine how lost she would have been. It was a far cry from the life she had lived before.

The same boat they'd traveled in before was waiting once more. This time Ryll got in with less trepidation. As Merlin used his magic to guide it forward, Ryll tried to summon her own powers. She felt nothing. It was as if the Second Coming had drained her of any and all magic. She stifled her disappointment and focused on the island that rose out of the mist. Her disappointment turned into nervous excitement as the boat bumped the edge of the island. Merlin stood, holding out a hand for her, and they stepped onto the island together. He grasped Excalibur in his other hand. Now Ryll remembered the time she had visited Avalon seeking to purge the dark magic from her. It was where she had first learned of her fate though the Sidhe had told her she would die for Arthur not Merlin.

Merlin didn't release her hand as they moved inland toward where Arthur lay, still asleep. The king was as they'd left him, golden hair lit up by the patch of sun that penetrated the mist. "How is it he's still so young?" Ryll asked.

"I don't know. We all seem to be about the same age as when you died. That must be significant. Maybe time sort of restarted itself just several hundred years later." Merlin held Excalibur, hesitating. "We should do this together," he said.

Ryll nodded. Merlin reached out a hand and unfolded Arthur's hands. "You take one hand, I'll take the other," he told her. Ryll reached out and took one of Arthur's hands. It was warm. Merlin took the other hand and then laid Excalibur on Arthur's chest, blade pointed downward. They both clasped his hands over the hilt and drew back. At first nothing happened, but then Arthur's hands moved, tightening on the blade. His eyes snapped open, as blue as Ryll remembered. King Arthur was awake.

…

Merlin watched as his old friend awakened. He'd waited so long for this moment, waited for his king to return again. Merlin just hoped he hadn't changed too much for Arthur to recognize him. He might look the same as before, but he'd changed. Who wouldn't after so many years of solitude? He'd lived multiple lifetimes. He'd never be the same Merlin he'd been in Camelot. He glanced up at Ryll whose face was unreadable. She had changed too in the Second Coming. Now the question was, had Arthur changed?

The king's eyes fluttered open, staring up at the sky – now cleared of the mist and showing blue patches.

"Arthur?" Merlin said his name aloud, and Arthur turned his eyes to Merlin, recognition sparking. He moved to get up and Merlin helped him sit.

"Merlin?" Arthur looked his friend over. His eyes were a little unfocused as if he was trying to put everything together. Did he remember being dead? Arthur turned to look at Ryll. "Amaryllis."

"It's good to see you, Arthur," Ryll said, a smile breaking out across her face.

"Do you know where you are?" Merlin asked. Arthur looked around him, confusion etched on his face. "You're in Avalon," he answered for him when the king didn't speak. "You've just awoken in the Second Coming."

"I just woke up too," Ryll said. "Well, it's been three years, but I didn't have my memories until Merlin and I pulled that sword from the stone."

Arthur looked confused. "You pulled Excalibur from the stone?" he asked.

"Well, it took a little magic," Merlin admitted, watching Arthur carefully.

"Right, of course." There was no judgment in the king's tone. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Well, awhile now," Merlin said. "Pushing nine hundred years."

"Then I was dead." Arthur's tone was hollow as he spoke as if he'd known this all along even if he hadn't put it into words until now.

"Yeah."

"I was too," Ryll volunteered.

Arthur's eyes fell on her. He reached out for her hand, and she took it. "I could never forget the day you died," he said. "I remember you speaking of a second chance. I'm not sure I truly believed that it would come."

"Sometimes I doubted it too," Merlin said softly. Ryll looked over at him. The sorrow was clearly written in her eyes. "But we're here now," he continued before she could apologize. "It's not entirely clear who else has been brought back, but what is clear is that Albion is in trouble. Magic is failing, and we need to save it."

"Has Gwen come back?" Arthur asked. There was a desperation in his tone, and Merlin wished he could give him a different answer.

"I don't know," he said. "So far I've only come across Ryll, Morgana, and Byron. Ryll saw Lancelot before she remembered who she – and he – was. He was looking for her, so he clearly still had his memories."

"You mean to say you had no idea who you were when you woke up?" Arthur asked Ryll.

She shook her head. "I thought I knew who I was, but it turns out those were just false memories. I'm not sure why I didn't wake up knowing who I was. But I remember now."

"You said Morgana was back. Have you spoken to her?" There was concern in Arthur's tone, and Merlin knew he was wondering what Morgana was like in this lifetime.

"Yes, Ryll found her first. They hit it off right away. Morgana wants to change. She wants to do things right from the beginning this time."

"She regrets what she did in the past. Even if you made peace before I died, she was never truly happy after that. This is her chance to make a happy life for herself. I'm just afraid she'll let herself be influenced again," Ryll said.

"By Morgause?" Arthur asked.

"And Uther."

"My father is alive?" Arthur asked.

"I'm not sure," Ryll told him. "I haven't come across him yet if he is. I don't understand how this works, if we've all come back or just those of us who need a second chance. I think your father might fall under that category. I think most of us do."

"Nine hundred years?"

"Give or take."

"What is this world like?" Arthur asked, looking around him. All he could see were the ruins and the waters, however. "Does Camelot still stand?"

Ryll caught Merlin's eye, but there was no hiding the truth. "No, Arthur. Camelot is in ruins. It fell a few generations after your rule. Saxons. Your legend has lived on though."

"Everyone knows who you are," Ryll told him. "Though not everyone believes it really happened or that you really existed. This world doesn't believe in magic or legends."

"The world is changed," Merlin told him. "It's nothing like anything you could have imagined. It's evolved to something you won't recognize."

Arthur looked nervous, but he nodded, sheathing Excalibur in the empty scabbard at his belt. "Then I'm lucky to have two guides," he said, pushing past any doubts he had. "We'll figure out what our purpose is together and find those who also came back."

Merlin helped the king stand. Though Arthur was unsteady on his feet at first, he was able to walk to the boat and get in with no help. It was tight on the ride back, but Arthur seemed comforted to have his friends close as they drew close to the shore.

"What is _that_ contraption?" Arthur asked the second the boat hit land. His eyes were set on Merlin's car.

"Something that you're going to see a lot of," Ryll said.

"It's called a car," Merlin put in. "Think of it as horseless carriage."

"What's it made of?" Arthur ran a hand over the side of the car when they reached it.

"Metal. Rubber tires. It runs because of a combination of things inside of it." Merlin pulled his keys out of his pocket, clicking the unlock button. Arthur started a bit at the sound of the doors unlocking.

"And it's safe?" Arthur asked as Merlin opened the passenger door for him.

"Yeah, very safe," Merlin assured him. "They've been around awhile now." He studied Arthur for a second. "You might want to take that sword off your belt," he told Arthur. And maybe get out of that armor. You'll be more comfortable. You can put it in the boot."

"In the what?"

"Oh, the back of the car," Merlin amended. "Not in my boot. I don't think it would fit there." He gave Arthur a grin while Arthur gave him a mock scowl. For a second it was just like old times. He helped Arthur out of his armor, popping the trunk of his car and stowing it safely away. Ryll volunteered to keep Excalibur on the back seat so it was still within Arthur's sight.

Merlin finally slid into the driver's seat and Arthur semi-gracefully fell into the passenger seat. "That strap to your left is what's called a seat belt. Just pull on it and clip it into that little square on your right." Arthur struggled with the belt for a few moments before snapping it successfully into place. "It keeps you safe, but don't worry, I'm a good driver. I've been driving since cars were invented."

"This is kind of exciting!" Ryll said enthusiastically from the backseat. "It's like seeing the world from a totally new perspective."

"Only you were lucky enough to wake up knowing everything," Merlin reminded her.

"It's true. Where are we going anyway?" she asked as Merlin started up the engine.

Arthur nervously gripped the door at the slight vibration. "Is it supposed to do that?" he asked.

"That's the engine," Merlin told him. "It's what gets the car running."

"How does it move without horses?"

"It rolls on the four wheels. There are a lot of things that go into making it move. Machinery replaced horses a long time ago." He looked back at Ryll in the rearview mirror. "I thought we'd go to my house," he said. "It's safe and removed. After that I can drive you back to Ealdor to get Owl and whatever you need."

"I need to check in with Morgana too. She was staying with me," Ryll explained to Arthur. He nodded stiffly, looking very uncomfortable as the car began to move.

"Relax," Merlin told him. "It isn't even magic."

"Just keep your eyes on the road," Arthur said as Merlin turned onto the dirt road.

"I know what I'm doing," Merlin assured him, glancing at the king.

"Watch out!" Ryll shouted a second later as a group of men moved to block the road in front of them. Merlin slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a halt.

"What the…" The men were all dressed in black with a single symbol on each of their shirts.

"That's the Pendragon crest," Arthur said, frowning at the men. "But I don't recognize them. Could they work for my father?"

As Merlin looked at the men, they drew swords from sheaths at their belts. "Well they're definitely involved with Camelot somehow because swords are not a preferred weapon anymore." The men started toward the car, fanning out as if they meant to surround them.

"Back up!" Ryll shouted at him.

Merlin pushed the gear into reverse and slammed his foot down on the pedal. As the car moved backwards, one of the men leapt forward, sword arching down to hit the car on the hood. A dent formed under the metal blade, but Merlin was gaining distance quickly. The men started pursuit, but before they could take another step, another group rushed out from the trees. Merlin stopped the car and they watched, astonished, as another group of swordsmen joined the melee.

"Well this is unusual," Ryll said.

"I don't see how," Arthur said. "Hand me my sword," he turned to look at Ryll who shook her head.

"You just woke up," she told him. "You're in no shape to fight."

"Nonsense."

"You have no idea who they are or whose side you would even be fighting on," Merlin said. The second group was dressed in scarlet cloaks with the hoods pulled up and their lower faces covered with matching colored fabric. They were otherwise unmarked and as they gained the upper hand, one of them turned and waved Merlin away.

"Go!" he shouted loudly enough for them to hear through the closed windows. Merlin didn't need to be told twice. He put the car in drive and shot past the fighting group, nearly taking out a sapling as he swerved a little off the road. He looked back in the rearview mirror but the next moment a bend in the road put the fighters out of sight.

"Well that was unexpected," Ryll said. "Things like that do not happen nowadays," she told Arthur. "People reenact Medieval Times now – that's what they call the time we lived – but weaponry has advanced much further than swords. Fighting has lost a lot of its elegance."

"Is there war now?" Arthur asked.

"There's always war," Merlin replied. "There always has been."

Arthur seemed to sense that this was a touchy topic because he asked, "If there's no Camelot anymore, then what is there?"

"Well, we're currently in England which has a queen now. She's queen of the entire country though. There aren't separate kings and queens like before. The queen appoints a Prime Minister who carries out laws and heads the government working with Parliament. I'll explain more later." He'd still always considered Arthur his king, but he kept this to himself. Something had definitely changed though. He no longer felt like Arthur's servant – of course he hadn't been for a long while – but there was a sense of independence. Merlin had lived a long time and experienced more than one man ever could in a single lifetime. He'd seen so many things Arthur couldn't possibly begin to imagine. He wasn't the same Merlin therefore they couldn't have the same relationship they'd had before.

"I suppose there's a fair amount of history to catch up on," Arthur said, trying to sound lighthearted but failing. He sounded lost and overwhelmed, and Merlin didn't blame him one bit.

"I know it's a lot to take in. Try not to take it all in at once," he advised the king.

…

Merlin's house was in a small town two hours from the ruins of Camelot. Ryll didn't know what she'd been expecting, but the second she set eyes on it she knew it was his. It was a two-story stone cottage with a rounded tower on one side with ivy that wound its way up the stone as if trying to shelter the house. The yard was filled with trees and the garden was full to bursting with the most beautiful flowers Ryll had ever seen. Everything about it was welcoming, and it felt like coming home.

When Merlin had parked his car in the driveway, Ryll got out, breathing in the fresh air. The fragrance of the garden hit her, and she closed her eyes.

"Do you like it?" Merlin asked her. She opened her eyes to find him looking at her. There was a hesitance in his eyes as if he'd been waiting for her opinion for a long time.

"I love it," Ryll said in a long exhaled breath. "It's beautiful."

The look on Merlin's face, the smile that lit it – she'd been waiting to see that for so long. She nearly threw her arms around him that moment, but then Arthur cleared his throat and she remembered that they weren't alone.

"Let's go inside," Merlin said. He got their suitcases from the trunk and led them inside. Arthur clutched Excalibur as he looked around, seeking comfort in the one familiar object he had left.

The front door opened up to a cozy living room with cushiony chairs and a couch. A stone-faced fireplace took up the corner and a flat screen TV currently held Arthur's attention. To the left a set of open doors led into Merlin's study. The rounded walls on one side let in streams of light through the windows, cascading around the room like evanescent gold. Ryll caught a glimpse of piles of books leaning precariously on the floor and the desk before Merlin led them into the kitchen. The island counter divided the kitchen from the living room. While the rest of the house had an old-fashioned feel to it, the kitchen was modern, appliances gleaming stainless steel.

"Bathroom is the second door to the right," Merlin told them, indicating the wall across from the kitchen. "Bedrooms upstairs." The staircase was situated at the back of the house next to the back door. Ryll looked out the kitchen window to see a sprawling backyard filled with flowers and shrubs. The grass was verdantly green and neatly mown.

"Is anyone hungry?" Merlin asked, setting the suitcases at the base of the stairs.

"I could eat a wild boar," Arthur said, setting Excalibur on the kitchen island.

"I'm fresh out, but I could make us some sandwiches," Merlin said.

"I'd be glad of whatever you have," Arthur told Merlin. "As long as it isn't stewed rat."


	20. In the Dark

**Author's Note:** Thank you as always for favorites, follows, and reviews!

* * *

 **-Twenty-**

 **In the Dark**

When Morgana awoke the following morning, her head was much clearer. The idea of being Morgana again had settled somewhat. Even though she didn't feel like Morgan anymore, she didn't entirely feel like Morgana. She felt like a clean slate. She had the chance to be good from the start. So why did she have a hardness in the pit of her stomach? Why did she keep seeing her past life replay out in front of her eyes? How could she move on and become a different person if her past kept haunting her?

 _Let go_. That's what Ryll would tell her. Ryll. She was probably worried about Morgana. Had she gotten her memories back at the same time as Morgana? Something told her that Ryll had been the reason Morgana had gotten her memories back. Ryll was always the clever one, finding solutions to what seemed to be impossible problems. If anyone could see them all through this, it was her. History was already repeating itself. Uther was still fighting magic even though it was already dying.

 _Then change it_. If they didn't learn from their past mistakes then the future would be riddled with them. Morgana had made so many mistakes in the past, but not she had the chance to make up for them. She wouldn't let them hold her back. Feeling a fierce determination welling up inside of her, Morgana went in search of her sister.

"I need to go back to Ealdor to get something. Then I'm going to talk to my father," she said. _And no one is going to convince me otherwise_ , was more or less implied.

…

Despite Morgause's protests, Morgana left A.V.A.L.O.N. Agency after calling a cab from the office phone. "I'll be back," she promised her sister. "This is something I need to do."

"I can't stop you or tell you what to do, sister, only advise you to the best of my ability. I just worry. Uther will say anything to get you back," Morgause warned her.

"Maybe giving up on him already will only drive him to destroy magic faster. Maybe I can talk to him."

"I admire your optimism, Morgana. Just be careful. I don't want to see you get hurt." Morgause reached out to touch her sister's face.

"I'll be careful," Morgana promised. "I know he's not going to change overnight, but I hope he meant it when he said he wanted things to be different between us."

Her cab honked from the curb, and Morgana hugged her sister before going to meet it. "Ealdor, please," Morgana said. The cabbie nodded and pulled away from the curb. As they passed the white castle the town was named for, Morgana saw a tour bus pulling up the drive. These people had no idea they were so close to the original legends. She smiled to herself. Who would believe they were entering a Pendragon castle anyway? This world didn't believe in magic. Maybe magic was already as good as dead. She didn't want to believe that but if it was magic that had caused all this trouble in the first place, perhaps they'd be better off without it.

…

The cab dropped her off outside of Ryll's flat, and Morgana retrieved her purse from upstairs to pay the cabbie. Her phone was where she'd left it, and she saw that she had several missed calls from Ryll. She pressed 'call' to connect to her friend, feeling a rush of happiness when Ryll answered a second later.

"Morgana! Is it you?" Ryll asked.

"It's me. I've got my memories back," Morgana told her friend.

"How are you?" The question was weighted, and Morgana could hear the hope and the fear behind Ryll's simple question.

"I'm…" She hesitated. How was she? Could she even answer that question after everything? "I'm just glad there are no more illusions," she said finally. "I'm also ready to be someone new. I don't want to be Morgan but I don't want to be the old Morgana either. I want to be someone who doesn't let people change her."

"You're one of the strongest people I know, Morgana," Ryll told her. "If anyone has the ability to change their future it's you."

"I hope you're right. I've already met Uther in this life." She caught Ryll up, telling her of Uther's unorthodox methods for getting her to White Castle and Lancelot's rescue. She explained A.V.A.L.O.N. Agency and Nimueh's mission. She told Ryll about her sister. "I'm going to forgive him," she said, speaking of Uther. "For all he did in the past, it was me who let him change me into something bitter and evil. I'm not going to let him have any power over me in this life. This is _my_ life."

"I think you're making the right choice," Ryll said. "He might not have changed, but he's still your father and if there's a chance to make things right, you should take it. He's still trying to save you even if he doesn't understand that you don't need saving."

"Morgause thought I was mad for going back to speak with him."

"She just doesn't understand. Uther is nothing to her. She's just trying to protect you. Just don't let her tell you how to live your life. I know she's always had your best interests at heart, but last time didn't go so well."

"I won't. I'm not letting anyone tell me what's best for me."

"Don't even let me tell you," Ryll told her. "I just want to encourage you but I would never want to change you."

"I know that. You tried to keep me from changing before. I can't begin to say how sorry I am for what I did to you." Her voice broke.

"This is a new life, remember? Don't dwell on the past. I forgave you ages ago. You need to forgive yourself now."

Morgana nodded even though Ryll couldn't see the movement. "I will," she said. "Did you find Arthur?"

"We did. He's here now. We're at Merlin's house about four hours away from Ealdor. He's got no idea about the 21st century so it's as if he was frozen in time. He still looks twenty-something." She told Morgana about searching for Excalibur, finally pulling the sword from the stone, and the rush of memories that followed. "It's all very odd. There are still so many questions that need to be answered."

"It's just the beginning," Morgana agreed. "We have a bigger problem though. Uther means to destroy magic."

"How?"

"I don't know. He thinks it's the only way to save me. He thinks it's evil still even if he doesn't think the same of me. I'm going to try to learn more. He's got men working for him. I don't know how much they know, but Lancelot is under some sort of enchantment. He has to serve Uther until he's released."

"You think Uther is using magic?" Ryll sounded surprised.

"I think he's desperate to destroy it and if it means using it beforehand, he might try. Lancelot isn't under his total control though."

"After we got Arthur, we came across two groups of men. One tried to stop us while the other fought them off. I couldn't see their faces, but there are definitely others out there who are aware of what's happening. I feel like I'm one of the only ones who has no idea of anything. You and I both didn't have our memories and yet everyone else seems to have their purpose figured out."

"We'll figure out ours too," Morgana assured her. "We just need to tread carefully until we do."

"Byron works at the pub," Ryll said suddenly. "Will you talk to him? Find out what he knows?"

"I will. And I'll take care of Owl while you're away," Morgana promised. "Or at least see if Byron can feed her if I end up staying with Morgause."

"Thank you. We're going to try to figure out more about Arthur's purpose in coming back. Will you keep me updated on your end?"

"Of course."

"And be careful," Ryll warned her. "Don't let anyone try to use you." She hesitated as if she wanted to say more. "Did you get your magic back?" she asked.

"I did," Morgana replied. "Though I'm not too keen to use it."

"I didn't get mine back," Ryll said softly. "I don't know why."

"Maybe it's just taking awhile," Morgana suggested. "I'm sure it will come back. You didn't even have magic until you were older."

"Or maybe I used up all my magic to bring this Second Coming around. Somehow…"

"We're going to figure this out," Morgana promised. "Perhaps it's the magic weakening and we need to find a way to bring it back before you can get your magic back."

"Either way, I'm glad you're back. I missed you."

"I missed you too."

After they'd said their goodbyes, Morgana fed Owl and left to find the White Dragon pub where she'd first met Liz. Ealdor wasn't a big town by any means, and she had no trouble locating it again. She hesitated outside the doors. She and Byron had had a complicated relationship in Camelot. They'd been enemies and allies, but he'd died before she could make up for whatever ills she'd caused him. She remembered the day after he died so clearly it could have been only moments before. She had a feeling it was similarly engrained in Arthur, Merlin, and Ryll's minds as well. The look on Ryll's face when Sarrum's men had tossed Byron's lifeless body before them… Anyone could see that Byron had been in love with Ryll though he'd come to accept that she would only ever love Merlin. Ryll had loved Byron like a brother though. Through it all they'd shared an unshakable bond that withstood whatever disagreements and conflicts they had. It only made sense that Byron would awaken in this life only to protect Ryll again.

Morgana pushed the doors to the pub open. Byron stood behind the bar polishing a glass. The building was empty, and Morgana was glad for that. Anyone who overheard them might think they were taking the Camelot obsession a little too far. This wasn't going to be a conversation for other ears anyway. When Byron looked up at her there was no surprise in his eyes, and Morgana wondered if he'd known all along.

"Hello, Morgana," he said. He set the glass down.

"Byron."

"Then we both know who we are." She didn't know if that was relief in his voice. What would it have been like to know who you were all this time but not be able to talk to anyone about it?

"Just recently. You?"

"The same."

"So neither of us had our memories until yesterday." She didn't sit, and Byron didn't offer her a seat. They just stood there, the bar between them.

"What changed?"

"Ryll." At her name, Byron's eyes flashed to Morgana's, filled with so many emotions that she couldn't read them. "She and Merlin pulled Excalibur from the stone. That triggered her memories to come back."

"I was working, just finishing up my shift when I felt a headache coming on. I blacked out for ten whole minutes before I woke up again and found I wasn't Byron the bartender but Byron the druid."

"Can you do magic?" she asked.

"I only tried a few small things, but yes."

"Ryll's magic hasn't come back yet." Morgana knew Ryll wouldn't mind her telling Byron this detail. She trusted Byron with her life, so Morgana would put her trust in him too.

"Maybe she used it all up to get us here."

"That's what she suggested. I'm not sure if that's possible. I wonder if we could find the stone you gave her – the one to channel power through. Would it have any residual power in it?" Morgana asked.

"It might but how would we find that? Did she have it on her when she…when she passed on?" he asked, unable to say 'died.'

"I don't think so. I'm not sure."

Byron's eyes wandered to the window. "I wonder… There's a shop below her flat."

"The Crystal Caves, I've seen it."

"What if it's not just a tacky tourist shop?" he said slowly. "Everything seems too perfect, too planned. Like someone placed it all here for us to find."

"What do you mean?"

"The Second Coming. What is that? Who decided that we should all come back? For what purpose?" Byron asked. "What if someone is toying with us?"

"Who? Who has the power to do that?" Morgana asked. Byron's words startled her. She didn't like being in the dark which was exactly how she'd felt since she'd met Ryll and started suspecting there was something more to her life. The idea that someone had planned this all out for them…that unsettled her more than Uther's plot to destroy magic.

"I have no idea. I don't know who would be powerful enough to do that." He furrowed his brow in thought. "The two most powerful sorcerers I know are Merlin and Ryll."

"You're not suggesting either of them had something to do with this? I mean I know Ryll's sacrifice made this possible, but she was and is in the dark as much a we are."

"Did Merlin have his memories?" Byron asked. "How would he have known to pull Excalibur?"

"Merlin never lost his memories," Morgana told him. "He wasn't reborn with us because he didn't die." Byron pondered this, expression dark. "You aren't suggesting he had something to do with this?"

"Think about it. He's the _only_ one of us who didn't come back since he was the only one of us who didn't die. Wait…" He looked at Morgana. "Did you die?" he asked.

"I…" Morgana hesitated. Her own end was so personal. She wasn't sure she was ready to share it. "Not exactly but something happened so that I lost my memories and woke up along with the rest of you."

"But you said you got your memories back."

"I did. Let's not jump to conclusions," she said. "About Merlin. But I do have some questions for him."

"Me too. Where is he?"

"With Ryll. They're at his house. It's four hours away. I'm not sure where exactly."

"I can't just stay here working in this pub anymore," Byron said, tossing down his rag on the bar counter. "Not now that I know the truth."

"Right now I need to be here," Morgana told him. "If you want to go off and find Ryll, then call her. She can tell you how to get there. Right now I could really use an ally though."

"Last time we were allies, Ryll got hurt."

"I'm different now," Morgana told him. "I'd never hurt her and I never meant to. Right now there's a threat that could eliminate magic altogether."

"What?"

"My father. But I'm hoping I can change that."

Byron was quiet for a moment, and Morgana wasn't sure if he would help her or not. Then, "What did you have in mind?"

"I hoping I can convince him it isn't the right thing to do. He's convinced that if he destroys magic then he'll save me, but I need to show him that it isn't evil. I didn't set a good example before. I can hardly blame him for thinking that magic corrupted me, but I don't want to blame him. I want to forgive him."

"Even after all he did? All the magical people he executed?" Byron asked, tone hard. Morgana remembered that he'd had a friend who had died at Uther's hand.

"That was in our past life. If we don't start fresh here we'll just repeat the same mistakes we made before. Do you want that life again?"

"No." Byron's green eyes were determined, but they no longer held the anger they had before. "No, we need to learn from those mistakes. What do we do first?"

"First let's see if we can find that crystal," Morgana said. "Ryll might need magic, and if hers isn't working the crystal might give her something she can use."

"Then let's go," Byron said. He started toward the door and Morgana followed. Byron switched the sign to 'shut' and locked the door behind him. "Slow day anyway," he said with a shrug.

It was strange walking beside him now. Morgana was torn between the familiarity and the discordance of it. Last time they had interacted they'd been deep in a forest within the borders of Camelot. They'd had swords and horses and all that things that came with Medieval Times. Morgana was still the same person who had grown up in that time, but she hadn't forgotten Morgan and her familiarity with the modern world. It was an odd combination of belonging and feeling out of place.

When they reached the Crystal Caves, Morgana pushed the door open. A bell overhead tinkled and an older woman appeared from the backroom. "Can I help you?" she asked. She wore a crystal around her neck like a lucky charm and her fingers flashed with rings.

"We're looking for a particular crystal," Morgana said. "Pale pink in color."

"Roughly cut. It would be on a chain most likely," Byron added. He knew best as he had found the stone for Ryll.

"We have a lot of stones but I think I know the one you mean." The woman walked over to one of the glass cases and pulled out a stone. "Is this the one?" she asked.

Morgana and Byron came closer, studying the stone. Morgana looked at Byron who nodded. "That's the one," he said. There was suspicion in his tone. Morgana turned back to the old woman.

"It's been waiting for you," the woman said. "I've been keeping it safe all these years."


	21. Magic vs Electricity

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the wait! Christmas time was so busy that I didn't have any time to write, but things are getting back to normal, so I'll try to get back to posting once a week!

* * *

 **-Twenty-One-**

 **Magic vs. Electricity**

"Is Morgana all right?" Merlin asked softly when Ryll had hung up. She was standing in his study, gazing out at the garden. He'd been showing Arthur around, explaining the basics of modern technology and appliances. He'd even explained indoor plumping. Arthur's only comment there had been, "So no more chamber pots?"

"No more chamber pots," Merlin had repeated. Thank goodness for that.

It was surreal having Arthur and Ryll in his house. For so long Merlin had been alone and the thought of his friends had seemed an impossible dream, but now they were here and everything had changed.

"She's fine. She's got her memories back, but she's still determined to be different in this life. She met Uther and Morgause and Nimueh though."

"Wait, slow down," Merlin said, the names hitting him like daggers. "Uther is in this life?" Half of him wanted to ask what Uther had done to deserve a second chance, but he let the words die on his tongue. He was in no place to judge Uther. They all had things they needed to rectify. He just wasn't sure Uther would ever understand that a lot of what he'd done in his past life was wrong. The single-minded couldn't see past their own ways.

"Yes. He lives in White Castle. I guess he bought the historical castle there."

"Figures." Even if Uther wasn't king of this land, he'd never live like anything less. He was used to power and people fearing him.

"He had Morgana kidnapped because he thought there was no way she'd willingly see him."

"He did _what?_ "

"She was still Morgan at the time so you can imagine how frightened she was. She decided to forgive him anyway."

"Morgan or Morgana?" Merlin asked.

"Both. At first when Morgana got her memories back she was furious, but then Lancelot got her out of the castle. He's working for Uther though not by choice. Morgana said he thought there might be some sort of magic binding him to Uther."

"Uther using magic?" Merlin thought back to Nimueh's magic that had borne Arthur. Uther had made a deal with magic so that he could have a son. It was only after his wife, Arthur's mother, died that he had turned against it. Magic came with a price and, in that case, it was a life for a life. For Arthur to be born, his mother had to die. Uther would only make a deal with magic if it would benefit him.

"But that's not all. You said magic was failing, growing weak. Uther means to destroy it altogether."

Merlin's eyes flashed to her. "That's not possible," he said.

"He thinks he's found a way. Lancelot told her about it. He said Uther was confident he could destroy it."

Merlin sat down at his desk feeling too heavy to stand all of a sudden. Ryll reached out a tentative hand and placed it on his shoulder. He relaxed under the touch. Maybe Uther thought he could destroy magic. Maybe he _could_. Right now Merlin wanted to cling to the hope that Ryll and Arthur had brought him.

"We have one advantage against him," Merlin told her. "We have Arthur."

"You want to use Arthur as a bargaining chip?" Ryll asked.

"If that's what it takes." He didn't want to use Arthur but Uther would do anything to protect his son. Perhaps even stop trying to destroy magic.

Ryll knelt down in front of him. "You're already letting Uther define your actions," she told him. "Don't let him do that. If you do, then he already has power over you."

"Without magic I don't know what I am," he told her slowly. Magic had been his one constant companion all these years even if it had been fading away in the last few centuries.

"Well I do. You're Merlin. You're the kindest, most loyal friend I've ever known. You love and protect your friends with a passion that is both selfless and destructive. You're the man that I love and I would love you even if you didn't have a drop of magic in your blood."

Merlin's mind snagged on the last thing she had said. "After all these years you still love me?"

"It's only been a second to me. I know that things are different, that _we're_ different. I don't expect anything to be the same, but we've both waited so long to be together." She pulled the ring from around her neck and handed it to him. "When the time is right, give this back to me," she said. "Once we have this figured out. If you still want to spend the rest of your life with me then even if magic dies, we still have that."

He took the ring from her. "I do want that."

"We're going to figure this out. But we can't start tossing blame around. We need to be patient with Uther."

"You said Nimueh and Morgause were back too?" Merlin pried himself away from the moment they'd had, the ring clasped tightly in his hand. There would be a time for him and Ryll again but right now they had more pressing matters at hand. Being reunited with her would have to be enough for now. Ryll stood and leaned against the desk.

"They reached out to her when she was still Morgan. They run an agency in White Castle that helps people with magic. I guess in a world where it's not accepted or even believed in, there are a lot of lost people out there who don't fit in. They shelter and mentor them."

"Sounds too good to be true."

"Perhaps."

"How is it that everyone ended up within the same vicinity? Everything feels too neat."

"Like it was set up," Ryll said with a nod. "I agree. It seems as if everyone else besides Morgana and me had their memories. Maybe not Byron unless he was pretending he didn't know who I really was but I can't see him doing that. I don't understand what sets us apart."

"You all have magic, but so do Nimueh and Morgause."

"I guess we'll have to be content not knowing the answer to that question for now."

"So did they want something from Morgana?" Merlin asked her.

"Just to join them. I think Morgause just wanted her sister back to protect her. Whatever Morgause did in her past life, it can't be said that she didn't love her sister."

"So Lancelot has some free will if he helped Morgana escape Uther's castle."

"Yes, he's not a slave to Uther, just more of an errand runner. He's still on our side-" She seemed to catch herself. "He's still our friend," she added. "There are no sides here. Or at least there shouldn't be."

"Somehow I doubt Uther and Morgause and Nimueh would see it that way."

"Maybe not. If Uther stops trying to destroy magic then he isn't a threat to them and if he isn't a threat to them then they won't try to stop him."

"That's a lot of ifs."

"Isn't it always?"

"Merlin, how do you work this infernal thing?" came Arthur's voice from the living room. Ryll and Merlin grinned at each other before going out to see what Arthur was currently struggling with. He was kneeling by the fireplace looking completely dumbfounded.

"It was feeling a bit drafty, so I thought I might start a fire but I can't seem to get to the logs," he said, glaring at the contraption as if it had personally offended him.

"It's an electric fireplace," Merlin told him. "Remember how we discussed electricity?" Arthur nodded. "It doesn't actually have fire." He reached forward and flipped the switch. Fake flames leapt up.

"Then what is that exactly?" Arthur asked.

"It's not real. It just puts out heat but the flames are just to give the illusion of a fire." Arthur stared at him. "It still warms you up but you don't have to worry about collecting wood or lighting a fire."

Arthur was eyeing the fireplace warily, but he didn't question it further. Merlin could tell he was trying to conserve some of his pride, but the truth was he was a complete stranger to this world. Merlin knew how much Arthur hated relying on others, but he would be leaning on Merlin and Ryll for a lot of things in the coming weeks.

"Are you hungry?" Merlin asked them. "I can order something. My kitchen is a little bare right now." It had been awhile since their sandwiches, and he felt famished as if he hadn't eaten in days.

"Order something?" Arthur asked. "Do you have a servant or a cook hiding somewhere?"

"Nope, just me." Merlin pulled out his phone and started explaining its complexities to Arthur. "So you can call a place where they make food and they'll bring it to us," he ended the explanation. "I think you'd like pizza. It's basically like bread and cheese and meat flattened into one neat circle."

"Sounds…interesting."

"Anything but rat stew, right?" Merlin asked with a grin before putting the phone to his ear to make the call.

Arthur seated himself on the couch, looking out of place in his Camelot garb. Merlin would get him some more modern clothes the first chance he got though he wasn't sure Arthur would approve of T-shirts and jeans. He put in the call to order pizza while Ryll spoke to Arthur. He noticed how Arthur perceivably relaxed while she offered a distraction. They could get into the topic of Uther and his destruction of magic later. Right now Arthur needed to get used to his new surroundings and learn the basic functions of living in a completely new century.

"This is all a lot to take in," Merlin heard Arthur tell Ryll and he hung up. She squeezed the king's hand.

"You'll adapt," she told him. "The most important thing is that you're safe and with friends."

Arthur looked up at Merlin. "And I couldn't imagine two more capable friends than you," he said. "Even if one of them is a complete clot pole."

"That's my word!" Merlin protested.

"Well I've stolen it," Arthur told him.

While they waited for the pizza to arrive, Merlin showed Arthur what a TV was and could do. "There's this incredible thing called Netflix and you can basically watch all these movies and television programs. They're like plays acted out only they're recorded and edited so you feel like you're watching something real."

"But not magic?" Arthur asked. "This…electricity thing you mentioned."

"Exactly. These actors and actresses do this for a living. It's their job." Merlin selected a channel at random. "You can watch the news reports on the TV channels and the weather forecasts. There are also games that were invented a long time after our time. People are really into that."

Arthur watched the people talking on the screen, mesmerized. "That's incredible," he sad after a moment. "My father would call it magic."

"I spoke to Morgana a few minutes ago," Ryll said, looking at Merlin. He nodded. It would do no good to keep anything from Arthur. "Your father is alive and in this world."

Arthur looked relieved for a moment but that quickly clouded over. "And Morgana… Does she still hate our father?"

"She wants to put that past behind her," Ryll told him. "She's forgiven him."

Arthur sighed. "I don't blame her for the anger she felt toward my father, but if we continue to carry old grudges then we're no better off than we were before."

"She knows that. She's really determined to change," Ryll assured him.

Before they could discuss this more, there was a knock at the door and Merlin accepted the pizza delivery, handing over the money he owed. He set the pizza down on the coffee table while Ryll raided his cupboards for plates, utensils and napkins. Merlin got them each a glass of water and they sat down to eat. "Be careful, it's really hot," he warned Arthur as the king gazed down at the foreign food. "I promise you'll like it. I didn't cook it for one."

"Already a point in its favor." Arthur took a careful bite, using his knife and fork to cut a small sliver. After he had chewed and swallowed he said, "That was delicious."

"Food is a lot better than it used to be," Merlin told him. "And probably a lot better for you. The feasts in Camelot were rich enough to give a man a heart attack."

"I suppose your physicians are much more advanced in this time," Arthur said.

"Just a little," Ryll said with a smile. "There are places called hospitals where the sick and injured go. Doctors can do all sorts of things: cure diseases, perform surgeries, see straight down to a person's bones to see if something's broken – not with their eyes; they have equipment for that. Basically all of the ailments we saw in Camelot either don't exist anymore or can be cured. Save the common cold."

"You saw it all, didn't you?" Arthur asked Merlin.

"What do you mean?"

"You've lived all this time and seen everything change." Arthur's eyes were serious, no hint of the usual teasing.

"I did. It was a lot to take in, as you said. But it all led up to now. I feel like I can start to live again, like I was just killing time until you both came back."

"Well you seem to have done well for yourself," Arthur said, gazing around the living room.

"It's just something modest," Merlin said with a shrug. Truth be told, between his different professions over the centuries he'd amassed quite a fortune, but he wasn't one for frivolity. Just the basics. He knew happiness couldn't be bought.

"I do have to ask," Arthur said, turning to Ryll. Ryll smiled like she knew just what was coming. "I know I'm very new to this whole 21st century thing, but is it…common for girls to put color in their hair and rings in their noses?"

Ryll grinned. "If you think that's strange, you should see some of the teenagers out there today."

"I didn't say strange, just…" He struggled with the word while Ryll stifled laughter. "Okay, maybe that is the right word."

"It's all right. I take no offense. Some people dye their hair even stranger colors and all of it. Some people have rings in very odd places. I'm quite normal by today's standards. Just…prepare yourself."

Arthur laughed nervously. "I'm just glad Merlin hasn't done anything too bold. I can't really picture him with blue hair."


	22. Savior True

**-Twenty-Two-**

 **Savior True**

"What do you mean?" Morgana repeated as the woman behind the counter of the Crystal Caves held out the familiar gem. "How did you know we'd be coming for this?"

"Because that is the purpose I was given," the woman told them. "It's the purpose I was born with."

"Were you…are you from Camelot?" Byron asked, speaking quietly though there was no one there to overhear him.

The woman laughed softly. "No dear, but my ancestors were. This crystal has been passed down through the generations. Then I received a sign three years ago when I was gazing at the stars. I was to move to this town called Ealdor and start up my own shop. That I should live to finally give the stone to its rightful owner is an honor." She pressed it into Morgana's hand.

"But it isn't mine," Morgana said. "It's for a friend."

"She cannot find what she is seeking until you free magic," the woman told Morgana. "You'll need this crystal."

"I think you have me confused with someone else," Morgana told the woman. "I don't know how to free the magic."

"I was told of a prophecy," the woman continued as if Morgana hadn't spoken. She cleared her throat and began to recite:

" _In the dying days of Albion_

 _When magic's nearly gone_

 _Reborn a child of Avalon_

 _To bring a brighter dawn…_ "

"That's Ryll," Morgana interjected. "A child of Avalon. Not me."

"Let me finish!" the woman scolded, and Morgana fell silent.

" _And with her comes a savior true_

 _Once foe of Arthur born anew_

 _With power to make the future new_

 _A hero her people will look to._ "

The woman finished with her prophecy and Morgana exchanged a glance with Byron. "It doesn't really say me though," she pointed out. "I'm not a hero."

"But you were once a foe of Arthur Pendragon, were you not Morgana?"

"How do you know my name?"

"I know many things child. I know who you are and you." She turned to Byron. "You've done well in keeping Amaryllis safe. Your memories were kept from you so that you could watch her from a safe distance. She wasn't ready to know who she was yet. She needed to take that journey for herself."

"How do you know so much?" Byron asked. Morgana could hear the suspicion in his tone. "Are you behind all of this?"

The woman laughed again. "No, not me. This is part of something much bigger than me. I am only a pawn to be moved where I need to go. We are all parts to this but you have not yet met the one who has put together this future for you."

"But you know who it is?" Morgana asked.

"I do not, but I do know where you can find them." The woman leaned closer conspiratorially. "You've heard of the place my store takes its name from."

"Yes," Morgana said. "The legendary Crystal Caves."

"Their power is diminished. This is not a world of magic but without it this world cannot hope to survive. People like us will have no place left. Already we hide ourselves for fear of persecution. Perhaps we won't be burnt at the stake but no one outside our small circle understands what we are or what we can do."

Her words left Morgana feeling fearful of the world she'd woken up in. She'd never thought about the idea of not having a place in it. Would it be just the same as living in Camelot under Uther's rule? Hiding who she was for fear of anyone finding out? "Then where do we fit in? Even if we save magic where will we use it?"

"There will always be a place for us in this world as long as magic remains," the woman told her. "How do you think Ealdor and White Castle came about?"

"Magic?"

"Magic is still all around us even as it weakens. But people don't see what they don't know to look for."

"What must I do then?" Morgana asked.

"Find the Crystal Caves. There you will find all the answers you seek."

"I don't suppose you could just tell us the answers," Morgana said ruefully.

The woman smiled. "I don't hold the answers. I'm just here to guide you."

"Does the one who holds the answers live there?" Byron asked.

"In a way," the woman replied. "It's something you must find out for yourself."

"What do you know of the warlock Merlin?" Byron asked the woman. Morgana glanced at him, but he was looking at the woman, jaw set. Perhaps the woman would know if he was involved or not.

"I know of the legends. That is all."

"Then you don't know if he's behind all of this?" Byron pushed on. "He was the only one of us who didn't die. He was alive all these years."

"I know he is not the one behind all of this. The magic of the Second Coming runs deeper and is much older than even Merlin."

Byron didn't look convinced, but he nodded after a moment, accepting the woman's words. "How do we find the caves?"

"They are hidden a few hundred miles west of where Camelot used to lie. If you use a locator spell on that crystal you hold in your hand, it will guide you. The crystal came from the caves after all."

"Thank you for your help," Morgana told her, clutching the crystal in her hand. "Is there anything else you can tell us?"

"Just one thing. There is a man you can trust. I fear he is ensnared by the enemy, but you can set him free. He will know how to help you."

"Lancelot," Morgana murmured. Byron's eyes darted to her, and she knew he must be remembering the time she summoned the knight as a wraith. Byron had been her ally for a short time then until he'd thought her methods too radical and changed to Arthur's side.

"Good luck, Morgana," the woman said. "May your story have a different ending this time."

Back on the street outside, Morgana took a moment to breathe in the cool air. The day was overcast and humid as if a storm was rolling in. Byron gave Morgana a moment before speaking again. "So Lancelot is in this life."

"I've met him. He saved me from Uther."

"I never met him," Byron said. "Not the real him."

"He forgave me for what I did to him," Morgana said softly. "I'm not sure I could have forgiven someone who did such a terrible thing."

"From what I heard, Lancelot was the most noble of the knights. Can you find him?"

"I can get a message to him." Morgana straightened her shoulders. "He's working with my father right now against his will. I need to speak with Uther. It's something I need to do alone."

"What makes you think he won't just lock you up?" Byron asked, following Morgana as she walked up the steps to Ryll's flat.

"He won't lock me up. Not if he wants a second chance as my father," Morgana said, unlocking the door and leading Byron in. "Will you look after Owl?" The cat had run up, rubbing all over Morgana's legs.

"Sure, but I'm coming when you go to the caves," he insisted.

"Fine. In the mean time you should call Ryll and see if she or Merlin know anything more."

Byron looked faraway as Morgana spoke. "I haven't spoken to Ryll since she got her memories back," he said softly. "Since I died…"

"Then she'll be glad to hear your voice," Morgana told him.

"If she's forgiven me for dying on her." He forced a smile.

"She's not one to hold a grudge." She turned to leave the flat, but Byron stopped her.

"You could at least let me drive you to White Castle. If you don't mind riding on a motorcycle. I'll let you speak to Uther by yourself."

"Fine, but I'm staying with my sister in the city. I'll call you if I find out anything new." She put Byron's number into her phone and locked the door behind them. Byron's bike was behind the White Dragon Pub. Morgana hadn't ridden on a motorcycle before and she eyed it warily.

"I'm a good driver," Byron assured her, handing her a helmet. Morgana strapped it on and climbed onto the bike behind Byron. "Hold on tight." She wrapped her arms around him, feeling stiff and uncomfortable. As the bike started up and picked up speed, she forgot her discomfort and held on tighter. Thunder rolled in the distance, and she hoped they would outrun the storm. The wind was whipping her hair back and stinging her cheeks, but in that moment she felt so free. She hadn't realized how oppressive her past was until it was over and she was on the path to a new life. Now looking back, all she wanted to do was move forward.

The drive was over too quickly, but she readied herself for the task at hand. "I'll keep you updated," she told Byron. "Thanks for the ride."

"Be careful," he warned her. "Don't underestimate him."

"I know." Morgana gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile before turning to face White Castle. In the daylight the castle was intimidating and cold. There were no tourists to be seen. She walked up to the front door as the sound of Byron's motorcycle faded into the distance. She didn't know if she should knock or just enter. Her fist hovered over the door but in the end she tried the knob and pushed it open. The front hall was as austere and formidable as the outside of the building, but she didn't let herself feel intimidated.

"Hello?" she called out. Her voice echoed in the emptiness but there was no answer. She looked around trying to remember where Uther's office had been but she had no way of knowing. Before she had the chance to make up her mind on which direction to go, footsteps echoed above her. She stood at the base of the main stairs as the footsteps neared. Finally a figure appeared, coming to stand at the top. Uther. He gazed down at her in surprise.

"You came back," he finally said, his face breaking into a smile. She wasn't sure what response she had expected from him. Perhaps anger. The joy on his face surprised her.

"We need to talk," she said.

Uther's smile fell slightly, but he said, "Of course. Please, come to my office. We can speak in private."

Morgana didn't see anyone else, but she didn't feel like standing in the front hall for this conversation so she nodded and climbed the stairs. Uther led her to the very end of the second story hall and opened a set of double doors, motioning for her to enter. Morgana forced herself to walk in and sit in the chair in front of Uther's desk. She noticed that he didn't close the doors as if to prove she wasn't a prisoner here. He sat down across from her and folded his hands.

"I'm so sorry again for the way I brought you here the night before," he told Morgana. "It wasn't right of me."

"It wasn't but I understand that you meant well," Morgana said. She could see the relief in Uther's eyes and pressed on. "I don't want this life to be like the last," she told him. "You're my father and even if, in the past, we didn't see eye-to-eye that doesn't mean we can't try to start over in this life. We might not see eye-to-eye in this life either, but if we're honest with each other then it's a start."

"I want to have a relationship with my daughter," Uther told her. "I was wrong to keep your true parentage from you before. Now I have no title to offer you. Just an apology and a promise to try to do better."

"Right now that's enough," Morgana said. "But there's something else I'm hoping to discuss. It's come to my attention that you mean to destroy magic." Her words hung in the air, and she could see Uther wrestling with what to tell her.

"I see you spoke to Lancelot," was all he said.

"Don't blame him," she said. "He was only trying to help me."

"By taking you away from me?"

"I came back, didn't I? You think destroying magic will save me but have you ever considered that I don't need saving? That there's nothing wrong with me in the first place?" She could tell this wasn't the conversation Uther wanted to have, but she didn't care. This needed to be addressed.

"Life would be less complicated without magic. You've seen this world. It doesn't accept magic any more than I did. You're in danger out there. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I can take care of myself. I hid my magic for long enough. Besides, there are places where we can live without fear." She remembered what the woman from the Crystal Caves had told her. There were places where she would be safe. Places made from magic like Ealdor and White Castle. Perhaps everyone here had once lived in Camelot.

"Maybe you don't see a way for it to work, but that's because you don't understand what it is to have magic. If you really want to change, if you really want a second chance with me, you need to fully accept that magic is a part of me. If you destroy it then you destroy a part of me. Is that what you want?"

"Of course not. I would never want to destroy you, Morgana," Uther told her. "I just want my family back together."

"Then perhaps this future will work out after all," she told him. "Arthur is awake."


	23. The Order of the Round Table

**-Twenty-Three-**

 **The Order of the Round Table**

"Where is he?" Uther asked, leaning forward. There was such eagerness in his eyes, and Morgana reminded herself he was still a father. No matter what he had done in his past life, it could never be said that he didn't love Arthur. "Have you spoken with him?"

"He's safe," Morgana said. "But you already knew where he was, didn't you? You sent men there to retrieve him."

"It was just a guess. I'd looked everywhere else for him. I knew Merlin and Amaryllis would lead me straight to him. I assume he's with them now?"

"Yes. He'll come to you when he's ready. He's safe with Ryll and Merlin. They're his friends and they care deeply for him. They're not going to corrupt him with magic if that's what you're afraid of. Arthur made his own choice before. He chose to accept magic. After Ryll died, he did everything he could to bring equality and peace to those with magic. No one forced him to do that. He's different from you, Uther. He is able to forgive and move forward. You're not a king here and you have no right to make decisions for anyone except yourself."

"Not even when the fate of this world is involved?" Uther asked.

"What do you mean?" Morgana asked with a frown.

"I haven't been entirely honest with you," Uther said, leaning back. Morgana quieted her retort. Of course he hadn't been honest about everything. She'd known that. "When I was first brought into this land, I was given a purpose. Yes, reunite my family, save my daughter, but then I was shown something – a vision I suppose – and in it I saw the magic consumed and unleashed upon the world. I saw the world crumble. It must not fall into the wrong hands."

"Whose hands?" Morgana asked. "Please don't say Morgause or Nimueh."

"No," Uther said, shaking his head. "Merlin."

…

Lancelot stopped his car outside of the old hunting lodge that lay twenty minutes outside of White Castle. It was hidden deep in the woods – long retired from serving guests. He saw movement from inside the building and then a man stepped outside to meet him. Shaggy, dark hair framed his face and his brown eyes held their usual mischievous glint.

"Have you heard the news?" he asked by way of greeting. "Our king is returned to us. He made his escape from Uther's men just this morning accompanied by none other than Merlin and Ryll."

"Good to see you too, Gwaine." Lancelot took the proffered hand, and the two hugged briefly. Gwaine had picked up on all the modern greetings and hand signals and etiquette quickly from thumbs up to 'bro hugs' as he liked to call them. He dressed in jeans and a band T-shirt that Lancelot didn't recognize. He hadn't had as much time to acclimate to the new world. In the three years since they'd all arrived, Gwaine had already found time to get kicked out of three pubs and break a string of hearts all over White Castle. Somehow he'd still managed to remain under Uther's radar no doubt thanks to the others who were constantly trying to keep him out of trouble.

"Are the others here?" Lancelot asked. "I have news." He was glad to hear Arthur was in safe hands. He knew Merlin and Ryll would help him adjust and keep him out of the fray. He'd had no choice but to tell Uther that Ryll and Merlin had located the young king, but he'd also spread word to another group that held Arthur's best interests at heart. They called themselves The Order of the Roundtable after the knights they had once been.

"Lancelot's here," Gwaine called as they entered the building. The others appeared from different rooms. Leon, Elyan, Percival and, the youngest, Mordred. Lancelot had not known Mordred during his time in Camelot, but the others had filled him in. Mordred was a druid once saved by Morgana when his guardian had been executed by Uther. He'd joined Morgana before the last battle where Ryll had fallen and had later been knighted by Arthur for his bravery on the battlefield. It was one of the first steps toward truly uniting the magical and the non-magical. The young druid's bright blue eyes were always a little unnerving, Lancelot had thought. It was as though he could see right into your soul. He was quiet as they sat down to talk, observing, listening.

"Uther means to destroy magic as you know," Lancelot said. It was old news by now. "But I know how. He's trying to destroy the Crystal Caves."

"Those are where Merlin was able to see into the future, right?" Gwaine asked.

"Right. They're made of pure magic. It's said anyone who gazes into them may see the future. Right now they are the major source of magic and, even so, they're failing. I don't know how Uther intends to destroy them. I think he already has men working on it, but I don't suspect they'll be easy to destroy."

"Emrys has returned," Mordred said. It wasn't a question, but Lancelot nodded anyway. "He knows more about the caves than any of us," the druid boy continued.

"We'll get in touch with him," Lancelot said. "He'll know what to do."

"And Morgana?" Mordred asked, the tiniest hint of emotion in his tone.

"She's here in White Castle," Lancelot said. "I've spoken with her."

There was relief in Mordred's eyes. "She will help us defeat Uther," he said without hesitation.

"She's not here to defeat him but to forgive him," Lancelot said softly. "Trying to destroy him before is what destroyed her. She's changed."

Mordred frowned. "Uther will never accept her even if he claims he's changed. He's just desperate to have control over his family. Arthur might have been king when he died, but now neither of them are, and Uther thinks it's his responsibility to claim an inexistent throne."

"We won't let him do that," Percival spoke up.

"Do we have a plan?" Leon asked.

"I need to speak with Morgana again, tell her about the caves. She's in contact with Ryll and Merlin. Merlin will have a plan. I'm sure of it."

"In the mean time we need to see if we can slow Uther's men," Gwaine said.

"We can't risk an all out war," Lancelot warned him. "This isn't about defeating anyone. It's about a second chance. Uther's back too, so yes, that means he gets a second chance just like us. Whether he takes it or not isn't up to us."

"What if Morgana and Arthur can't change his mind?" Elyan asked. "What then?"

Lancelot sighed heavily. "We protect Arthur first and foremost. But we also work on protecting the world because the world isn't ready for Uther."

…

"Merlin would never…" Morgana tried to wrap her mind around what Uther was telling her. "He's only ever sought to keep the world – and Arthur – safe."

"Then perhaps he does not destroy the world intentionally, but I saw it nonetheless." Uther folded his hands. "I know you don't want to believe your friend could do something like that, Morgana, but I swear to you that I speak the truth."

"There's more to it, there has to be…" Morgana protested. Byron's suspicions crept into her mind then like unwanted guests. Merlin had not died. He had been around the entire time while the Second Coming had been just a thought. _Did_ he know more than he was letting on? Whatever the answer, she wanted his side of things too even if Uther was telling the truth. "I need to think things through," she said, standing.

"If it will ease your mind to speak to Merlin, then please do, but trust me when I say I'm only doing what I can to protect my family."

"Have you ever considered that we don't need protecting?" Morgana asked from the doorway. "We're not children anymore, Uther. We can make our own choices."

She left him with that thought, tracing a path back to the front entrance. She stopped short as a man pushed through the front doors looking harried. "Morgana." It was Lancelot. His expression turned to relief when he saw her. "I'm glad you're here. I need to speak to you." He didn't question why she was there, just accepted it.

"I need to speak with you too, but not here."

"My car's outside or…Uther has some horses in the stables out back. There are some trails behind the castle…" He looked unsure, but right now the familiarity of being on the back of a horse sounded wonderful, so Morgana said, "Let's take the horses."

Uther had six black and bay horses each well built like a warhorse. Morgana picked a bay with a mane and tail that fell in glossy waves. Lancelot led a black one out. They saddled the horses and Lancelot led her away from the castle and into the woods. The land was a bit steep, but a trail led down the side of the hill and into flatter land laced with trees and shrubbery. They rode in silence for a long while until Lancelot turned to Morgana and asked, "What was it you wanted to tell me?"

"You first." She didn't want to tell Lancelot of Uther's vision. Merlin was his friend, and he'd never believe that he could destroy the world even by accident. Morgana wasn't sure she believed it either, but the look in Uther's eyes told her he wasn't lying. He wasn't trying to turn her against her friends, just warn her, keep her safe.

"I found out how Uther plans to destroy magic," Lancelot told her, and she could tell it had been weighing heavily on his mind.

That momentarily distracted Morgana from her own worries. "How?" she asked when he didn't immediately tell her.

"The Crystal Caves. They hold the remnant magic and he thinks if he destroys the caves then he destroys magic."

"The caves…" It couldn't be coincidence. "When I was in Ealdor last, I found Byron. You didn't meet him-"

"I remember him," Lancelot cut in. "From when I was a wraith."

"Right…" Morgana shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "Well he got his memories back when I did, and he wants to help. I told him that Ryll didn't get her magic back and he suggested we try to retrieve the crystal she once used to channel her powers. There's a store beneath her flat-"

"The Crystal Caves, right, I've seen it."

"When we entered, the shopkeeper knew just the crystal we were looking for. She said she had been waiting to give it back to its rightful owner. She said I needed to use it in order to free magic and only then would Ryll get her magic back. She told us to go to the Crystal Caves and that all of our questions would be answered there."

"It seems like that's the place to go then," Lancelot replied.

"That's not all though. I came back to speak to Uther, and he told me he'd been given a vision when he first came back. He saw someone taking the magic and destroying the world with it. Whether on purpose or not, he didn't know. But Lancelot, the one he saw in his vision was Merlin."

Lancelot's face predictably clouded over. "Merlin would never use magic for such a dark purpose," he said, tone hard.

"I know," Morgana rushed to say. "I know he wouldn't, but I don't think Uther was lying. He might have misinterpreted what he saw, but he saw it. There's still so much we don't understand, but it's time for answers. The answers are in the Crystal Caves. That much is clear."

"So we go there and we get answers."

"I think we should keep this between the three of us for now – you, me, and Byron. It's not that I don't trust Merlin. I do, but the more people we get involved, the more complicated this gets."

"But we might need Merlin to guide us through the caves," Lancelot objected.

"I think this is something I need to do. Byron insisted on coming and if you want to come I won't stop you, but the woman was very specific. This is something I need to do."

"Who was she? You trust her? Just like that?"

"It was her destiny to tell me this information," Morgana told him. "She told me a prophecy. In that prophecy she said I was a hero in this life. Do you…" she faltered here, scared to force the words out, but she did anyway. "Do you think there's any way she's right?" she asked. "Could I really be a hero?" She hated the doubt in her voice, the need for validation.

"Of course you can, Morgana. You've shown you can change and it gives hope to the rest of us. Forget what the history books say, forget who people expect you to be. This is your life."

They had slowed their horses to a walk but now Morgana pulled her horse to a stop. Lancelot stopped his horse as well and met her gaze. "Thank you," Morgana said. "I can't tell you how much your faith in me means. You've trusted that I could change from the start even after what I did to you."

"We all made mistakes in our past life. I'm not going to hold that against you. It does no one any good holding grudges. I'll come with you to the caves, but only if you agree to call Ryll and tell her where you're going. She'll know if it's the right time to tell Merlin our plan or not. I don't believe he's capable of using magic in such a way, but we don't hold all of the answers yet, so perhaps there's something we aren't seeing. Perhaps he's a victim of some evil that Uther could not see in his vision."

"Will Uther notice you're gone?" Morgana asked.

"I'm not his slave," Lancelot said. "He'll be busy for the next few days."

"What do you mean?"

"I have some friends who are going to look into slowing down his men. You might remember them. Leon, Percival, Elyan, Gwaine, and…Mordred."

"Mordred?" Morgana's heart leapt. "He's alive?"

"Yes. He became a knight after you left Camelot. They're still loyal to Arthur."

"I have a feeling we'll need all the help we can get. When should we leave?"

"Do you know the location of the caves?" Lancelot asked.

"This crystal came from the caves. I can use a locator spell to find them," Morgana said, pulling out the crystal she had retrieved.

"Let's leave tomorrow morning," Lancelot suggested. "Call Ryll and Byron and catch them up. Are you staying with Morgause tonight?"

"Yeah, I have a room there. I'm not going to tell her about any of this," she added. "I want to because she's my sister, but I don't want to give her a reason to wage war against Uther."

"I know it's hard keeping secrets from people you care about, but sometimes it's necessary."

"I just hope we're doing the right thing."

Lancelot nudged his horse into a walk. "You can't really know that until the end, but if you have good intentions then you're doing all you can."

"Sometimes I just wish this was all over, whatever it is that needs to end. I want to start my life but I don't feel like I can until everyone else has found their purpose. I'm afraid everything would fall apart if I left and that sounds selfish, I know."

"You're tied to the center of this, Morgana. It doesn't sound selfish. There's a lot of weight left on your shoulders, but just know that you don't have to carry it by yourself."

Morgana smiled. "I made that mistake before," she told him. "I'm not making it again."

…

After Lancelot and Morgana returned the horses to the stables, he drove her back to A.V.A.L.O.N. headquarters. Morgause was relieved to see her, and Morgana wondered if she'd been getting ready to storm Uther's castle in search of her sister. "I'm fine," she'd told her over and over. She'd finally gotten a chance to head to her room where she pulled out her phone and called Byron.

"Did you find him?" Byron said without preamble.

"Lancelot? Yes. He's coming with us," Morgana told him. "But I need to fill you in." She told him everything including Uther's vision and his quest to destroy the Crystal Caves in order to eradicate magic.

"We need answers. I know you want to call Ryll and Merlin and tell them everything, but right now there are too many questions – questions about them."

"You're saying you don't trust them? Even Ryll?" Morgana asked, not quite believing what she was hearing.

"I trust Ryll. But she is even more in the dark about all of this than us. And you _know_ she has a tendency to go rushing into things trying to save everyone and putting herself at risk. It's our turn to take the risks."

"Says the boy who got himself killed taking a risk," she retorted.

"Morgana, please. If we're going to work together, we need to agree on one thing. We keep Ryll safe. She sacrificed _everything_ to ensure we got a second chance even if she didn't know that's what she was doing. We owe her big time."

"We do. She never gave up on me no matter what I did. I want to make this right."

"We don't even know how to fix this or what ending is the right ending," Byron said. "We need answers."

"Then we get them and then we call Ryll and Merlin. I don't want to keep secrets. If she calls me and asks, I'm going to tell her. I'm not going to lie to her."

"We won't."

"Did you call her earlier?" she asked him.

Byron was quiet for a moment. "No," he finally replied. "I almost did. I typed in the number, but I couldn't quite press 'call'."

"A phone call isn't the same as seeing someone in person."

"Maybe that's why I couldn't do it. I don't want to hear her voice without seeing her face or being able to pull her into my arms and hug her to death."

Morgana smiled. "Lancelot and I are heading out tomorrow morning. Meet me at the A.V.A.L.O.N. Agency at 7am." She gave him the address.

"We're going to get to the bottom of this," he told her. "We're going to find answers."

"I hope so," Morgana said. "I'm tired of going around in circles."

"You're sure we can trust Lancelot?"

"Yes. The woman in the Crystal Caves shop seemed to think so too. He's done nothing but help me. I trust him."

"Then I'll see you tomorrow," Byron said before hanging up.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow Morgana would learn the truth. Maybe the caves would tell her if a villain could truly become a hero or if Morgana would be haunted by her past deeds forever. She wasn't sure she was ready to hear the truth because she realized no matter what she'd done in the past and no matter what would happen in the future, she really wanted to be that hero the prophecy had spoken of.


	24. A World Without Magic

**Author's Note:** Sorry for taking so long to update. I've been applying for full time jobs which is stressful and then I got a really bad cold resulting in lots of coughing and apathy. But I'm trying to get things together again. I'm working on the next chapter now, so hopefully I can get back to posting once a week. Thank you as always for reading!

* * *

 **-Twenty-Four-**

 **A World Without Magic**

After Merlin filled the bath for Arthur in the guest bathroom (old habits die hard, he told Ryll), he sat next to her by the fire, taking her hand without speaking. It felt so natural like hundreds of years hadn't stretched on between their last meeting. Giving into instinct, Ryll drew her knees up onto the couch and curled into Merlin's side. He put his arm around her and held her tight.

"I missed you," he breathed, the pain resonating in his voice.

"I'm here now. You don't ever have to miss me again because I'm not going anywhere," Ryll promised him.

"I'm afraid I'm going to wake up and this will all have been a dream. Ouch!" he hissed the next moment when Ryll pinched him. "What was that for?"

She smiled innocently. "You're not dreaming. Besides, no one could dream up something as bizarre as King Arthur bathing upstairs in your house."

"True." Merlin's smile faded after a second, and he grew serious again. "You know what was the worst part of living all these years?"

"What?" She was almost afraid to hear it. It'd been easy for her. She'd been dead. The pain had been taken away from her and left in Merlin's own heart.

"The worst part was not knowing how many years I still had to be alone but also knowing that an eternity is far too long to be alone," Merlin told her. "There were times…times when things got rough, when I didn't think I could keep going on alone. There were other times where I thought I should just move on with my life. But there was always that hope." He turned his eyes on her, and Ryll noticed for the first time how very old they looked. They were still the same shining blue, but there was also something faded behind them. A haunted look that could only come from the passing years. "Always that hope that you'd come back to me."

…

Later that night when Ryll lay in bed trying to fall asleep she kept hearing Merlin's words over and over. _There were times when things got rough, when I didn't think I could keep going on alone…_ She couldn't take those years away from him. They might move on, make the life for themselves that they'd always wanted, but it wouldn't be the same. Ryll didn't know if she wanted to pick up right where they'd left off or not. She knew it wasn't possible but part of her ached to go back to how it had been. She'd been cheated out of her first life – no, not cheated. She'd died to save Merlin and she hadn't regretted that once. If he had died and she had lived then she would have had his life – alone, always looking for a glint of hope. At least until she died of old age or a broken heart. If she hadn't died, then the Second Coming might not have ever happened.

 _But even now I can't keep my promise to Merlin_. Merlin was immortal. She didn't even have her magic anymore. Their time together was limited. It was only a matter of time before he had to watch her die again, until he was alone and this time for good. After the eternity he'd lived, her lifetime would be nothing.

Ryll didn't realize she was crying until a hot tear rolled off her nose. The pillow was already soaked underneath her face and she started sobbing. She buried her face in the pillow to muffle the sound. The guestroom was across the hall and Merlin was sleeping downstairs on the couch so no one would hear her. Her whole body began to shake, and she felt sick to her stomach from the effort of trying to hold her sobs back. She started a moment later when a warm hand touched her back. She turned to find Merlin standing there as if he'd known she needed him. He climbed into the bed next to her and pulled her into his chest. He said nothing, but Ryll felt instantly better, her tears subsiding and the wracking sobs melting into tremors.

"Will I die again?" she asked shakily. "Will I grow old while you live on forever? Will I leave you alone again?"

"I don't know," Merlin said. "I wish I had the answer, but I do know that spending one lifetime with you is worth all the years alone." This made Ryll's tears begin again, but Merlin wiped them away. "We'll find a way to be together forever," he told her, kissing her forehead. "I promise."

He stayed with her, and she finally fell asleep, worn out from her crying. When she woke up in the morning, she was still nestled in his arms while he slept, black hair sticking up in all directions. She smiled, reaching up to brush her fingers through his hair. He stirred, opening his eyes and grinning at her. "I could get used to this," he said. "Waking up next to you."

"Beats the couch. You really didn't have to sleep down there."

"I might not then."

"Good."

They heard movement in the bathroom across the hall – Arthur was awake. "I'll get breakfast and coffee going," Merlin said, stretching his arms and tossing his feet over the side of the bed. "Waffles or pancakes?"

"Waffles. We've got to get Arthur into this new century with the proper breakfast."

"Couldn't agree more."

Ryll watched Merlin go, not quite wanting to leave the warmth of the bed yet but also not wanting to be separated from him for too long. She went over to her suitcase and pulled out fresh clothes before making the bed and heading downstairs. She met Arthur outside the guest room door where he was pulling at the T-shirt Merlin had loaned him.

"This is much softer than my old clothes and they were finely made," he said. "And these trousers…what do you call them again?" He plucked at the fabric, frowning.

"Jeans."

"They're very unusual."

"I wouldn't start with that if you're having a conversation with someone – anyone – about fashion these days," she told him with a sly grin.

"Right, well, do I look like I fit in?" he asked, holding his arms out so she could inspect him. It was so odd having King Arthur asking her opinion on his clothes, but Ryll smothered a laugh and gave him a critical look.

"Honestly, walk out that door and all the girls will be falling at your feet." Arthur scowled at her. "You look fine," she told him. "And we'll keep the girls at bay. You do have your wedding band on still."

Arthur looked down at the ring, and Ryll could see his happiness slipping. She mentally kicked herself for bringing up Gwen. "Hey, we're going to find her. For now let's get you adjusted to this world starting with breakfast."

Arthur followed her downstairs where they were met with the smells of cooking breakfast foods and brewing coffee. "You've probably never had coffee," Ryll said. "You're in for a treat."

"It smells wonderful whatever it is," Arthur said.

"You drink it like tea only it's stronger. You'll like it." She poured him a cup and handed it to him, watching as he took a tentative sip.

"That's delicious," he said a moment later. "A little bitter but I like the flavor."

"You'll find all foods and beverages have improved significantly over the past hundreds of years."

"And my cooking," Merlin added with a grin, pulling the waffle iron open and serving up two plates of steaming waffles and bacon to Arthur and Ryll. He added more batter while Ryll suggested Arthur add butter and syrup.

"You can also add jam if you'd like," she said, digging through Merlin's refrigerator and finding a strawberry jam. "They're basically bread made of batter and way more fun than the mush we had in Camelot."

Arthur dug in, savoring the taste, and Ryll could tell how pleased Merlin was that Arthur now enjoyed his cooking. "I can teach you how to make some meals if you'd like," he suggested to Arthur as he joined them. "It's a lot easier. You just go to the supermarket to get fresh meat and vegetables and fruit instead of going out to hunt or collect. I do have a vegetable patch and some fruit trees in the back though."

"Who…collects this food then?" Arthur asked.

"Well there are different farms and companies that grow and produce food. People hunt more for sport these days. Most of the meat in stores is fish, poultry, pork, or beef. The store sells it along with other necessities like soap and cleaning supplies and other stuff you might use around the house. There are a lot of different stores out there. You can buy just about anything. I'll take you shopping later if you feel like it."

"I don't know, is he ready for canned soup and express lines?" Ryll asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"We'll break him in slowly," Merlin promised with a sly grin.

"So how long have you lived here?" Ryll asked. "I don't even know what this town is called."

"Forest Ridge, and I've lived here five years now. I…moved around a lot. I guess I had a hard time finding somewhere to call home. I can take you around the town after breakfast if you're up for a walk. Both of you," he suggested.

"You two go," Arthur told him. "I can clean up the dishes."

Merlin and Ryll looked at Arthur. Merlin's mouth hung open. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"I think I can handle it," Arthur said. "Water, soap, dishes."

"Okay," Merlin said a little hesitantly. "Thank you."

"You have a lot to catch up on," Arthur told them. "I'll have plenty of time to learn more about automobes and…modern people."

"Automob _iles_ , but you're right. Make yourself at home. I've got plenty of books in the library on history or there's the TV. You remember how to work the remote, right?" Merlin asked.

"I've ruled a kingdom, I think I can figure out the talking box," Arthur told him. "You go take your walk and leave the cleanup to me."

Merlin and Ryll pushed their dishes toward him. Ryll thought Merlin looked the tiniest bit smug and noticed he didn't tell Arthur about the dishwasher, just showed him where the dish soap was and showed him how to plug the sink. He beamed at her, holding out a hand, and they left by the front door. Ryll stood for a moment letting the morning sun soak her face. The front yard opened up onto a street that led straight down past neat brick-fronted homes with well-kept lawns. There was a sort of peacefulness that lay over the town, and she could see why Merlin had chosen this place for his home. She felt Merlin's warm hand slip into hers and smiled.

"Shall we?" he asked. She nodded and let him lead her down the drive and onto the sidewalk. Straight down the residential street led into the commercial district where quaint shops lined the street. No one seemed to notice them, and Merlin told her he'd kept a quiet presence in the town for the years he'd lived there. It made her sad to think of him wiling away his time alone.

"You're enjoying the thought of Arthur washing the dishes, aren't you?" she asked as they reached the waterfront. They leaned over the railing by the docks.

"Just a little," Merlin said, a satisfied smile on his lips. "But I feel for him too, of course. This isn't an easy transition. He's handling it well so far, but I can see him struggling with his role in this world. It's not Camelot."

"What about magic?" Ryll asked, turning to look at Merlin. He kept his gaze ahead as she continued. "When did it start to fail? When did you have to start hiding who you were again?" It was a sad thought. They'd worked so hard to get to the point when they didn't have to hide their magic anymore but now they lived in a world that would not only persecute magic but didn't believe in it in the first place. It was a world that feared anything outside the realm of normalcy.

"After awhile those with magic ran scarce in Camelot," Merlin told her. "There were druids, yes, but even they, after a few generations, grew scarce. I think people forgot the old ways. After awhile it became legend and then myth. The new world began to fear such things. People thought of magic as the devil's work. I learned to hide it again. I'd had plenty of practice growing. It came easily to me again." He sighed softly. "It wasn't like I had anyone to share it with anymore. Sometimes I thought it might be easier just to be normal. There wasn't really a need for magic anymore."

"It must have felt like losing part of your identity though." Was that how she felt now without the use of her magic? Like Merlin had said, there wasn't really a need for it anymore.

"Maybe at first. After awhile I realized maybe it was time for a new identity."

"And now that Arthur is back? Now where does that leave you?" she asked him.

He finally turned to look at her. "I don't know," he replied. "I honestly don't know anymore. Uther is trying to destroy magic, but what he doesn't realize is that the natural progression of time has already started to do that."

"There is still magic out there. Without it, I would never have been reborn. That has to count for something."

Merlin took her hands, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he frowned. "Of course it does," he told her. "It means everything. I'm just wondering if it was magic's way of saying goodbye. It's grand finale. Maybe that was the end of it."

"But you still have magic. It's still a part of you. Right?"

"Yes, I still have magic." Merlin looked down at their hands. "I just don't have a use for it."

"You don't think you do, but we don't know anything right now. There might come a time very soon where we'll need your magic. We're going to save it anyway, not let it die. I don't believe magic is over with. I don't believe it can ever die. Not while we still live."

"I'm glad one of us is still optimistic," Merlin said. "Maybe I'm getting too old for optimism."

"Maybe, but I came back didn't I? If I can come back then so can magic." She hoped she was right. She had no idea how to fix it. She felt as if a part of her hadn't woken up yet.

"We keep talking about it like it's supposed to come back, but what if the world _would_ be better off without magic? Do you know what people who believe in magic are called these days? Crazy. Cults. A sorcerer is some made up person who only lives in books and movies and fairy tales. There's never going to be a place for us in this world. Why should we try to make one?"

"Because it's who we are. We can't change that and we shouldn't have to," Ryll protested.

"But where can we practice magic?" Merlin asked. "Behind locked doors with the curtains shut tight? We no longer live in a world filled with magic."

"Then I don't know." Ryll reached a hand up to touch his face. "I want to live in a world with _you_. If it doesn't have magic, then so be it. We don't need it to be happy."

Merlin leaned into her touch. "No," he said softly, but she could hear the doubt in his voice. He wanted to believe that, but magic was a big part of who he was. He might no longer see a place for it in the world, but that didn't mean he was ready to let it go.

"That's not the answer you were thinking," she told him. "I just don't want you to lose hope. I could get used to being normal if that's what we have to do. Liz did okay."

Merlin gave the blue strand of hair a gentle tug. "Mostly okay." His eyes glowed amber for a second, and Ryll grabbed her hair and gasped.

"You got rid of it!" Her hair was flawless honey blonde now, no blue in sight.

"But I left your ring," he told her as if that made up for it.

She gave him a playful push. "You are just behind the times," she told him.

"Well I am ancient. Maybe I'm too old for such radical hair colors."

"You're not too old for anything," she told him. "Don't think of yourself as old. This is our second chance. Don't go into it feeling the weight of all the years." Maybe it was an impossible hope, but she wished she could still see that glint in his eyes, half mischievous, half hopeful. Now all she saw was a seriousness that came with having witnessed so many years and so many sorrows.

"You make me feel young again," he told her. "Like we're back in Camelot and I haven't seen the world go on without you."

"It's really working. Your wrinkles and grey hair is receding," Ryll teased him, pretending to search for grey hairs. His hair was black as ever though, and he shook his head at her.

"I could make myself look old and grey, but then people might start to wonder what a woman as beautiful and young as yourself is doing around a dawdling old man. They'll think I'm your grandfather."

"Well we can't have that. I don't want them to stare when I do this." She leaned up and kissed him softly. When she pulled away a moment later, his eyes were closed, and he did look younger.

"Is that all I get?" he asked, opening one eye a bit to give her a look.

"I don't know. Are people staring?" she pretended to look around, but Merlin hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her into him, pressing his lips into hers in a much more passionate kiss than before. This one lasted longer, and Ryll could feel all the aching pain from the years Merlin had spent waiting for her along with the happiness he felt at their reunion.

"I _can_ be happy in this world with you and only you," Merlin told her when he finally pulled away. "You're all I want, magic or no magic."

"Then you have me," she said. "Let's quit relying on other things to make our lives perfect. Let's quit allowing other people to get in the way of our happiness. It's our time to live."

"Then maybe we let things happen however they will," Merlin said, and she could tell though he meant it, it took a great deal for him to say it. "Maybe we quit interfering."

"Maybe this time it isn't up to us."

Merlin laughed a little as he spoke. "Seems a little presumptuous of us to think we have a role to play in everything."

"Well, destiny and all. You did have a dragon whispering something about that in your ear an awful lot before."

"I suppose you're right. There are no dragons in this time, however. Just a lot of unanswered questions." He brushed his fingernail against the grain of the wood, leaning an elbow on the railing. Ryll turned to face the sea, enjoying the warm breeze that tugged at her hair. It already felt like home, and she found she didn't want to leave the little town. She was tired of quests, tired of questions, tired of suspicions. She just wanted to live.

"We should get back," Merlin said, interrupting her thoughts. He held out a hand, and she took it. "We don't want Arthur burning down the house or something."

Ryll smiled. "Who knows, maybe he decided to mop or dust or something."

"The Second Coming might be about second chances, but let's not take things too far," he told her. "No one said anything about miracles."


	25. A Modern Study of Heroes and Villains

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry again for the wait! I'm seriously still coughing after a month of having this cold though I think I'm basically over it. Then last weekend I got a short flu bug. That was fun on top of my cold. Then I had an interview the day after having a 103.5 fever. But I got the job! I am working part-time at the local library now! I get to be around books all day. But I'm also keeping my other part-time job since I can't really survive on 20 hours a week. I've worked at a souvenir gift store for about six years now. So while I'm training at the library, I am working 7 days a week for two weeks with one day off in between. (One of my coworkers got a full time job between me applying and getting this job, so there are currently three of us running the store...) I really hope once I get my regular library schedule that will not be the case. I even have to double on some of those days which means about 9 hours of work... I am going to be very busy. But I am still going to try to write. The nice thing about working two part-time jobs is I do get some mornings and afternoons off. It's not just 8-5 every week day. But if I don't update frequently, that is why. I'm just relieved I can stop job searching. Maybe having more to do will motivate me to set aside time to write. I will finish this story - I promise you that!

Thank you for reading and for the favorites and follows my story has gotten! Here's a nice long chapter. I don't start at the library for another week, so I'll try to get another one written before then!

* * *

 **-Twenty-Five-**

 **A Modern Study of Heroes and Villains**

When Lancelot arrived at the A.V.A.L.O.N. Agency to meet Morgana, he found she wasn't alone. Morgause and Nimueh stood at her side as he entered the building, and Lancelot stopped short, his instincts tense though he knew Morgana wouldn't let them harm him. "Come in," Nimueh said, her tone neither hostile nor friendly. Morgana gave him a sympathetic look. For a moment Lancelot feared that Nimueh and Morgause knew of Uther's plight to destroy magic, but he trusted Morgana understood the stakes. They couldn't risk an all out war between Uther and the sorceresses. No one spoke as Nimueh led them into a modern decorated office. The woman motioned for Lancelot to sit in one of the two chairs in front of her desk. Morgause leaned against the wall and Morgana sat next to Lancelot, fidgeting slightly. Her own nervousness only increased Lancelot's own.

"Morgana has told us of your plan to revive the magic in this crystal for the girl Amaryllis," Nimueh said once Lancelot was seated.

"Right." Lancelot looked over at Morgana. "She needs it to reclaim her magic. We think. The Second Coming has left her weakened."

"And yet you work for Uther, do you not?" Morgause asked, her eyes vicious as she surveyed him. Her distaste for him was plain and he tried not to let her gaze intimidate him.

"Not of my own free will," Lancelot told her. He didn't really expect her to believe him, but he'd never served Uther. It had always been Arthur. "I can't explain it exactly. Just that I'm bound to him until a time when I can be freed."

"Are you telling me Uther has 'stooped so low' as to have used magic?" Morgause asked, eyes flashing.

"Not himself, no, but the bond is of magic. I cannot break it. I don't know whose magic it is." He turned back to Nimueh. "Can you break it?" he asked. Nimueh seemed to be on more placid terms with him so perhaps she would help him.

"It's not that kind of magic," she said, blue eyes intense as they travelled down his face. "You cannot just break it like a chain. It's something you must overcome. How, I cannot say, but if you really do have good intentions of helping Morgana, then that's a start."

"I do. I swear it." He willed her and Morgause to believe it.

"Why?" Morgause pushed away from the wall, walking behind Lancelot and around the desk until she faced him, standing by Nimueh's side. Her brow furrowed as she gazed at him. "Why do you want to help her? I know what she did to you in your past life." Lancelot saw Morgana wince slightly at the mention of this. Morgause didn't blink.

"Because that was in our _past_ life. The way I see it, we all have one chance to make this future work. Mess it up and it won't be much of a second chance for some of us. If you hadn't noticed, most of us died in the last life," he told her, tone carrying the smallest hint of bitterness.

"I had noticed," Morgause said, but her words held less venom.

"He's right, you know," Nimueh said softly. Morgause's eyes darted to her. "Uther could make our lives miserable."

"Or we could make _his_ miserable," Morgause protested.

"We could, but in this life we have nothing to gain. We're here to protect those with magic from more than just Uther. Your quest goes much further than retrieving this stone, does it not?" she asked, addressing Lancelot.

"Yes," he replied truthfully. He looked at Morgana. "But it's something we need to do. Alone."

"I still don't trust him," Morgause said to Nimueh, speaking of Lancelot as if he wasn't sitting right there. He tried not to let it bother him. In a way Morgause was part of the reason for his own death. She had died so that Morgana could tear open the curtain between the world of the living and the dead. Lancelot had sacrificed himself to repair the rift. But even still, Lancelot found his anger was stale. There was no use for it here in this life. Better uneasy allies with Morgause than enemies.

"Do _you_ trust him?" Nimueh asked Morgana, bypassing Morgause altogether. Morgause pursed her lips but did not speak.

"Yes, I do," Morgana spoke quickly, and Lancelot felt a surge of gratitude. She was the most unlikely ally and yet she stood up for him without hesitation. "I know what I'm doing. I know you're just looking out for me, sister, but you have to let me do this."

Morgause was quiet for a long moment, and Lancelot saw something in her eyes – sorrow, perhaps, that Morgana no longer needed her advice but also pride. "Very well," she said. "But if you so much as hurt her…"

"Morgause," Morgana said, holding up a hand. "He won't."

"I would never hurt her," Lancelot put in.

"Then you may go," Nimueh told them. "Find the answers you seek."

"Thank you." Morgana and Lancelot stood, and Lancelot rather felt like he was leaving an interrogation. He opened the door for Morgana and they walked out to where he'd parked the car. Morgana had a small overnight bag she'd left by the door and she placed it in the trunk before getting into the passenger seat. They would stop by Ealdor to pick up Byron and then continue on to the Crystal Caves once Morgana performed the locator spell.

"Did you call Ryll?" Lancelot asked her as he started the engine.

"I…I didn't… I spoke with Byron and we realized that if we told her, she'd come rushing to help and our main priority in this lifetime needs to be protecting her. She sacrificed everything in the last life. You know how she has a tendency to go rushing off into danger to save her friends."

"Yeah, yeah, I do," Lancelot said, his hand tightening on the wheel as he pulled away from the curb, taking the main street that would lead out of town.

"Well this is our chance to protect her," Morgana told him.

"But she has a right to answers just as much as us – more so even. Do you think we'll meet some kind of danger in the caves?" Lancelot asked.

"I don't know. The woman in the Crystal Caves shop said it was _our_ quest. After we return, we'll take her there." Lancelot was quiet. He didn't like the idea of hiding this from Ryll at all. "Ryll and Merlin are busy adjusting Arthur to the 21st Century. Arthur needs them both right now."

"I think we should stop at Merlin's house before we go to the caves. It's on the way from what you've told me. We're not going to let anything happen to her, I promise, but I'm not going to lie or keep things from her. That's not what she would want. I know you're desperate to protect her, but she's the reason we're even here right now. We owe her the truth." Morgana was silent, but she nodded slowly. "You're still thinking about what Uther saw, aren't you?" Lancelot asked.

"What if in telling Merlin about this we set that future into motion?" Morgana asked softly.

Lancelot tightened his grip on the wheel. "Merlin isn't going to destroy the world with magic," he said. "Whatever Uther saw, it's not Merlin."

"But we don't know what was happening. I'm not saying Merlin would hurt anyone on purpose-"

"He wouldn't hurt anyone _period_."

Morgana fell silent and an awkward silence ensued for the rest of the drive. When they reached Ealdor and were stopped in front of Ryll's flat, Morgana hurried to get out of the car as quickly as she could. Byron met them on the sidewalk. "What's the matter?" he asked, immediately picking up on the mood.

"I want to stop at Merlin's house and tell him and Ryll and Arthur all of this first hand," Lancelot said. " _Before_ we go." Byron exchanged a glance with Morgana. "She told me about your reasoning for keeping Ryll in the dark, and while I agree we need to protect her and keep her from going off on her own, I'm not going to lie to her or keep this from her. We owe her more than that."

Byron looked humbled. "I just want to keep her safe."

"We all do," Lancelot assured him. "She was my best friend in that lifetime. I still want to do everything I can to protect her, but this isn't the way. And no matter what Uther saw, Merlin can help us."

"Fine," Byron said. "Might as well bring her some clothes and that cat of hers."

"I'll go pack her some stuff," Morgana said. Lancelot watched her go.

"No one has protected her more than you," Lancelot said to Byron. "But imagine what Ryll would say if she found out you'd kept this from her? She deserves answers just like the rest of us."

"She might throttle me after, but at least she'd be safe."

"We're just going to some caves," Lancelot said. "I can't imagine what you and Morgana think is going to be waiting for us there. I was under the impression that magical beasts didn't exist in this time."

"Beasts aren't the only monsters out there," Byron told him.

"Uther is just a man."

"A desperate man who wants very much to save his daughter," Byron added. "And simultaneously destroy magic. He's already putting ideas into our heads about our friends. We can't let him turn us against each other."

"Uther can only do so much." He was just as out of place in this world as the rest of them even as he struggled to get some sort of strangle hold on the world. He was still just a lonely man in a castle without a throne. "He doesn't scare me."

"So who's going to call ahead to tell Ryll we're on the way?" Morgana asked just then, a suitcase in one arm and a cat carrier in the other. Lancelot hurried to grab the case from her. She looked between the two of them and then sighed. "I suppose I'll do it myself since both of you are too chicken to call her."

"I haven't spoken to her since we got our memories back," Byron said defensively. "The last time we really saw each other was…" He cut off, clamping his jaw shut.

"Before you got yourself killed," Morgana finished for him. Byron flashed her a glare.

"To put it insensitively, yes," he said. "Thank you for reminding me."

"We all died in some way," Morgana told him. "We need to put that behind us now and focus on the present. I'll call her, but you'll see her when we get there. Might as well prepare yourself for it." She pulled out her phone and put in the call while Byron leaned against the side of the car.

"I guess we know who's in charge," Lancelot said with a smile.

"No wonder she and Ryll get along so well. They're equally stubborn and they enjoy bossing us around." Lancelot thought he saw Morgana's lips quirk up in a smile from where she stood a few feet away.

"Straight to voicemail," she said a moment later.

"Well it is," Lancelot checked his watch, "7:14 am. She might still be sleeping. Can you use a locator spell to find where she is?" he added. "You can try calling again later."

"This is going to put us back too far," Byron grumbled. "Uther is already a step ahead of us."

"My friends are distracting his men," Lancelot said.

"What friends?" Byron asked. "You never mentioned friends."

"The Knights of the Round Table," Morgana told him. "That's what they call themselves. The knights who were most loyal to Arthur in Camelot. They've been working subtly against Uther."

"I guess that makes you a double agent then," Byron told Lancelot.

"This isn't a spy movie. As long as I'm under whatever magical binding that ties me to Uther, I can't just ignore him." Much as he wanted to forget Uther and focus on the problem at hand, it was always tugging at him, a fine, invisible rope that bound him to the former king of Camelot.

"Have you ever considered that _you_ are endangering our quest?" Byron asked suddenly. "You're putting Ryll in danger just being here."

"Byron," Morgana cut in, putting a hand out between them as if anticipating a fight. Byron would throw a punch long before Lancelot would ever consider it. "Lancelot is not endangering us. Uther doesn't have magic. He can't just use a locator spell or a summoning spell. I want him here. He's proved to be a loyal friend."

"Oh, I get it." Byron smiled, but the smile didn't reach his green eyes.

"Get what?" Morgana snapped, her patience waning. They were wasting time arguing, but Lancelot wasn't sure cutting off Morgana was a good idea.

"You two. At first I thought you were the most unlikely alliance, but now I get it. Only we don't have time for mislaid trust and little crushes."

Morgana's face flushed with either embarrassment or anger. Most likely a little of both. "You're just making assumptions," she told him. "This is neither the time or the place for childish accusations. We need to get going." She turned away.

Byron shook his head but didn't argue. "That was out of line," he said a moment later to Lancelot. "Sorry."

"It's all right. You'd be a fool not to doubt me. I have no allegiance to Uther, but I'm not free of him. You're right to be on your guard. I would never betray Morgana or Ryll or Arthur though. I wouldn't betray any of you." His eyes strayed to Morgana where she had a map spread out on the hood of the car. Her eyes glowed amber for a moment.

"Here," she said, bringing the map over. "She's in a town called Forest Ridge. It's on the coast about four hours from here. Let's get going." She got into the passenger side of the car leaving Byron to share the backseat with a grumbling cat. Lancelot got behind the wheel.

"Well," Byron said, his voice falsely cheery. "Four hours in a car together. This should be fun." Morgana rolled her eyes at Lancelot and pulled out her phone and a pair of headphones. "Right," Byron said. "Good." He pressed his head to the window and watched Ealdor fade from sight. Lancelot couldn't help the trill of excitement that rippled through him. They were going to see Merlin and Ryll and Arthur again. It had been a long time since Lancelot had seen any of them. Last time he'd been a wraith. He'd nearly ruined Arthur and Gwen's lives. He needed to apologize to them.

"Is Gwen in this life?" he asked suddenly. No one had mentioned her name, he realized.

Morgana pulled a headphone out of her ear, fixing him with a sad look. "Not yet. We haven't found her," she said.

"Can you use a locator spell to find her?" he asked.

"I can try." He thought Merlin would have thought of that, but perhaps Merlin was busy enough taking care of Arthur. Morgana pulled the map back out and performed the spell. She shook her head. "I don't know where she is. Perhaps she didn't come back. Of all the people in Camelot, she lived the fullest. Maybe she's resting peacefully." Was that better? To be resting peacefully in the afterlife rather than forging a new life in this new time? Lancelot didn't know, but he felt for Arthur. Without Gwen, Arthur would feel as if half of his heart was missing. "We'll find her if she's here," Morgana assured him. He nodded, thankful for her words. "I owe her a thousand apologies even if I already gave them in the last life. It wasn't enough. She was so kind and I…" She broke off, looking away as if ashamed. "I treated her horribly."

"That's not you anymore," Lancelot told her. "That was before, this is now."

Morgana gave him a small smile before putting her headphones back in her ears and pressing her head against the back of the seat. The car fell silent as the miles rushed beneath the tires. Lancelot kept his eyes ahead and tried not to remember the past.

…

When they arrived back at the house, Merlin found Arthur sitting at the desk in his library. A couple of books sat on the desk as if Arthur had been reading. Arthur wasn't reading now though. He sat staring ahead, and Merlin caught sight of a stack of papers in front of him. He took a step closer, and Arthur turned to him.

"I just wanted to find some ink for the pen, but I found this instead," he said. His eyes were sad, and Merlin couldn't quite understand what he meant.

"You don't need ink for pens. It's already in them. Sorry I forgot to mention that. Were you writing a letter?" he asked.

"I was going to write to my father. I thought a letter might be a good way to contact him. I found these papers though. Your name is on them. You wrote them."

Merlin leaned forward to see just what it was Arthur was talking about. The paper was typewritten, dated fifty years before when Merlin had been pursuing his doctorate in medieval history. His eyes snagged on the title: _A Modern Study of Heroes and Villains: Was King Arthur the Hero of the Story?_ "Oh…"

"I read it. I shouldn't have, I know, but the title caught my eye." Arthur stood. The hurt in his eyes was undeniable. Ryll craned her neck to read the title. Her eyes flitted between Merlin and Arthur. "You should read it, Ryll. It's enlightening really." He moved toward the door.

"Arthur, wait! I didn't mean what I wrote personally. I was just exploring the topic-" Merlin called after Arthur, panic rising. He'd never meant for Arthur to read that. He hadn't even remembered that it was sitting in the drawer. The king paused in the doorway.

"Maybe my perspective was, what did you call it? 'Limited by the biases of my father.' Maybe I wasn't the hero after all." He didn't look at Merlin as he spoke. "It was rather rich to believe myself so important."

"You _were_ important. Did you read it all? I talked about myself a little too, well, the Merlin people think they know." And how no one ever talked about the decisions he had made – the lives he had taken for the greater good. He had questioned himself just as much.

"They already know you're the real hero," Arthur said, "from what I've read in your books."

"That's not what I-" But Arthur had already left the room. "Meant," Merlin finished. He buried his face in his hands. "That wasn't meant for him to read. I'd completely forgotten it was in the desk. It was just an analytical paper."

Ryll put a hand on his shoulder. "He just needs some time. He'll forgive you. He always does. It's not like you meant it personally, like you said. There's the Arthur we know and then there's the Arthur everyone else _thinks_ they know. There's a big difference."

"But it is personal because I _do_ know him. Because my own experiences did go into that paper." He sat down heavily.

"Can I read it?" Ryll asked him.

"You might as well." Merlin handed her the papers, and Ryll took them out to the couch, curling her feet up under herself. Merlin followed her, seating himself across from her and watching anxiously as she read. When she finished her eyes were filled with tears. She set the papers down, and Merlin tensed, waiting for her anger. Instead she put her arms around him and held him, tears running down his neck as she buried her face there.

"So you're not mad?" he asked.

Ryll shook her head, not pulling away. "That was the most honest thing I've ever read, and it took so much for you to write it, I know it did. Arthur hasn't been awake for long. He hasn't lived as long as you or had so much time to reflect. I'll go talk to him."

She pulled away and dried her tears. "Sorry it made you cry," Merlin said, quirking his lips up in a half smile.

"Did you get an A+ on it?" she asked.

"Actually a B. The professor thought I was taking liberties with some of my 'assumptions.' Seems I was a little too chummy with Arthur in some parts."

Ryll laughed. "Well, it's hard to distance yourself from something you've lived. Especially with all the silly, incorrect legends floating around these days."

"Too true."

Ryll leaned down and kissed his cheek. "I'll talk to him. He'll come around," she told him.

"I hope so…" Merlin watched her go before taking the paper and shutting it away in his wall safe in his office. He'd already done enough damage with it. Something vibrated against his desk, and he looked over to see Ryll's phone sitting there. Morgana's name lit up on the screen. He picked it up and answered, figuring Ryll wouldn't mind.

"Morgana, it's Merlin," he said into the phone.

"Hi, Merlin."

"Ryll is out back talking to Arthur," Merlin said. "Did you need to talk to her now?"

"I can talk to you," she replied. "There's a lot we need to talk about. Lancelot, Byron, and I are coming your way. Is it okay if we stop by your house?"

"Yeah, yeah, that would be great," Merlin said. "Lancelot is with you?"

"Yeah, he's right here. We've got a lot to tell you and Ryll and Arthur. He thought it would be best in person."

"Do you know how to get here?" Merlin asked. He was still a little stunned that Morgana had allied herself with Byron and Lancelot. Clearly they'd been busy while he and Ryll had been ushering Arthur into the 21st century.

"Locator spell. We're about two and a half hours out. I could use an address though."

It was so strange chatting to Morgana like this now that she'd gotten her memories back, but Merlin found himself glad to have his old friend back. It had been a long time since he'd called Morgana a friend, but there had been a time when that had been true. "Sure, it's 1486 Forest Road. I guess we'll see you in a few hours."

After he hung up he stood for a long while pondering how strange and yet familiar his life had become. Arthur being upset with him was nothing new, but he didn't like thinking he'd overstepped his boundaries as a friend. They were no longer servant and king, and Merlin wasn't quite sure how to define this new relationship of theirs. He just hoped he hadn't ruined it over some essay he'd written years before when he'd had absolutely no idea that the king would ever read it. He sighed, taking a seat. Now Byron, Lancelot, and Morgana were coming. How would Arthur react to seeing Morgana again? How would Ryll react to seeing Byron and Lancelot? Times were changing. Suddenly his life was turning into something much more complicated and what scared him the most was how little control he felt like he had. _Maybe it's time I got used to not being the hero of the story_ , he told himself. _Maybe this time it isn't_ my _story._

Maybe the books would never tell it right. Maybe Arthur and Merlin would always be the heroes of the story, but the books only told one side. To them this life wasn't a story. This was their world, their history, their future, and if he had the power to make it a good one, he would.


	26. Clarity

**-Twenty-Six-**

 **Clarity**

Ryll found Arthur sitting on a bench in Merlin's garden looking lost. Either in thought or in general, she wasn't sure. He stirred when she approached, looking up at her with conflicted eyes.

"Can I sit?" she asked him, receiving a nod in reply. He scooted over to make room for her. Ryll didn't speak at first. She gazed out over the garden. Merlin's yard stretched out beyond his house in a mixture of lawn, trees, and flowers. It was carefully tended, and everything seemed to glow with color. Ryll wondered if he hadn't used a touch of magic when planting the seeds. "It's beautiful here," she said. A part of her realized this could be her home if she wanted it to be. She'd never thought of anywhere other than Camelot as home, but she could see herself living here. There was a familiarity to it and when she glanced back at the house there was a tingle of recognition as if she'd seen that very same door before. She shook the thought away, turning to Arthur.

"Before you speak, let me just say that I'm not mad at Merlin for writing those things," Arthur said. His eyes were honest, but she could still see hurt behind them. "Camelot was never black and white. It wasn't just good and evil like the books paint it to be. I found a book on Camelot," he added. "Merlin has quite the collection."

"Sometimes we had to do things that maybe weren't right but they were for the right reasons," Ryll said softly. She knew she had.

"That doesn't make them right though. A right and a wrong don't make it right."

"A king has to make those tough decisions though. It's part of being the ruler of a kingdom. You don't have the luxury of always making the easy choices, of always saving everyone. It's part of what made you a great king."

"It's funny that here we are in a completely different time where I can be whoever I want to be and yet I'm still wanting the approval of my former servant."

"Merlin was never just your servant," Ryll told him. "He's your friend. He always has been. He's always been one of those people who make you want to be the best you can be. He inspires greatness, as do you. The reason Merlin wrote that paper is not because he thought you were a lesser king, a lesser _person_. It's because he was second-guessing himself. Your lives were so closely entwined in Camelot. You did a lot together."

"So he was second-guessing both of us because we both acted together for a lot of the things he feels guilty for," Arthur guessed, understanding softening his face.

"The past leaves scars on everyone, but we can't let them dictate our lives. It's easy to let our mistakes carry us down a road we don't want to travel. Morgana would understand that. Out of everyone I've met in this new life, she has been the most determined to overcome her past."

"Then she will be my inspiration to do the same. I'm not ashamed of my past. I know I did the best I could even if it was a difficult decision. But there's always something new to learn. I don't pretend to know anything about this world. I'm not a king here and so I need to forge a new identity for myself."

"You're not alone. I think we're all wondering just where we fit in." She turned as the back door opened and closed. Merlin stood there, hesitating, but Ryll waved him over. "Talk to him," she told Arthur. "He can't bear the thought of you being upset with him."

"Hey, sorry to interrupt," Merlin said, approaching them. "Morgana just called. She, Byron, and Lancelot are headed this way."

Arthur stood, and Ryll thought she saw anxiety mixed with the joy in his eyes. "Lancelot?" he asked.

"He's come back," Ryll told him. "I saw him once before I remembered who he was. And Byron. I haven't truly spoken to him since he died." She said the words bravely though her heart still clenched at the thought.

"It will be good to see them," Arthur said. "All of them. I may have made peace with Morgana in our last life, but this time I want to try to get my sister back."

"We all have a lot to discuss, but I'll leave you two now," Ryll said. She squeezed Merlin's hand as she passed and he gave her a nervous smile. "He doesn't have a pail or a pillow or anything to throw at her head," she mock whispered, smiling back at Arthur. She made her way back into the house, fingers trailing over the doorframe. She frowned, an image flashing through her mind too quickly to grasp. The familiarity returned, but she couldn't say why. She shut the door behind her and left Merlin and Arthur to talk.

…

"I'm sorry you had to see that," Merlin said at once, hovering by the bench. Arthur stood to face him.

"But not sorry that you wrote it?" he asked, and Merlin couldn't tell if he was still angry.

"I had a lot of years to reflect," Merlin told him. "I struggled sometimes with what I'd done in the past. If I'd done something different would it have ended better? Would Morgana have still turned against us? Would we have lost Lancelot? Would Ryll…" His voice broke even after all these years. "Would she have still died?" He forced himself to say it.

"You can't go back and change things," Arthur told him. "And you shouldn't regret what you've done. You were right. All of it. We weren't always heroes but we did the best we could. I'm not mad at you, Merlin. Of the two of us, you always had the most clarity. You saw through my prejudices and shortcomings to what needed to be done, to what was right. I let those things blind me to truths I should have seen."

"I was blinded too. When you get a destiny, it gives you a very one-tracked mind. I was always so focused on this one particular destiny that I didn't realize that the ending was always based on the choices I made along the way. It wasn't set in stone and sometimes I made the wrong choice because I thought it was the only choice."

"Perhaps now in this life our eyes will be opened," Arthur said, smiling slightly.

"Morgana said she had a lot to discuss with us. I'm hoping we'll stop feeling like we're wandering around with our eyes closed."

"I keep thinking this is a dream. Lancelot alive. My friends coming together." His eyes grew distant. "I just wish I knew where Gwen was."

"We'll find her. If she is in this world, we'll find her." Merlin hoped that was true. He didn't know how many more people were out there. He didn't understand how it all worked. He thought he'd been blinded by his destiny but now he was lost without one.

…

Morgana, Byron, and Lancelot arrived a little after ten. Ryll met them when they drove into the driveway, her joy uncontained as her three dear friends got out of the black car. Lancelot got out of the driver's seat but Byron, who was sitting in back, raced past him to grab Ryll in a bone-crushing hug. He lifted her clean off the ground, and she squirmed against him, laughing, her arms trapped. He finally put her down, grinning.

"Sheesh, we worked together all these years. You'd think we hadn't seen each other in a few hundred years," she joked.

"This is different," he said, putting his hands on her shoulder and studying her as if she'd changed since the last time he'd seen her. "You got rid of the blue," he added, studying her hair.

"Merlin did." Byron's eyes slid past her to Merlin. She saw something pass over his face for a hint of a second before vanishing. Arthur appeared at Merlin's side, hanging back a little. Byron let go of Ryll and bowed to Arthur.

"That's not necessary," Arthur said, coming forward and reaching out a hand to Byron. He pulled Byron up. "I'm not a king here."

"You're still my king," Byron said, his voice reverent. He turned to Merlin, but Ryll's attention was distracted by Lancelot as he came over to her. He was suddenly blurry, and she realized she was crying. He came forward and wrapped his arms around her. She buried her face in his chest, breathing in his familiar scent. She tried to hold back her sobs, shaking silently as he held her. She couldn't believe she hadn't recognized him when she'd first seen him, when he'd come looking for her at the White Dragon. But back then she had been Liz, not Ryll and had not remembered her friendship with Lancelot. Finally she stopped crying, wiping her tears away.

"I'm so glad you're here," she said. "I never thought I'd see you again."

"I never thought I'd get to live again," Lancelot said, his dark eyes dancing with happiness. "Guess we were both wrong."

Ryll beamed at him before turning to Morgana. She hadn't seen her friend since she'd regained her memories. They met halfway in an embrace, and Ryll felt like she had her sister back. "I'm so glad you're all here," Ryll said, putting an arm around Morgana and leading her toward the house. Morgana stopped short when she saw Arthur. Her eyes were wary as if she didn't know how her half-brother would greet her. Arthur hesitated for only a second before coming forward and pulling Morgana into an embrace.

"I'm sorry for everything, Morgana," Arthur said. "I shouldn't have let you slip away."

"I didn't make it easy for you," Morgana returned. She had tears in her eyes, and Ryll saw no traces of the Morgana that had once turned against them. "I'm just glad we can start over. I want to have a proper relationship this time. I want to be brother and sister and love each other like family, not become one another's enemy."

"I'd like that very much." Some of the lost look in Arthur's eyes had gone as he turned to greet Lancelot. The familiarity of friends had that effect, and Ryll felt like whatever questions she'd had this morning didn't matter anymore. Morgana went to grab a carrying case from the back of the car, holding it out to Ryll.

"Owl!" Ryll took the case. "Thank you for bringing her," she told Morgana. "I missed you," she spoke to her cat who responded with a loud meow.

"Well, are we going to stand out here all day hugging or may we come inside?" Byron asked, quirking up an eyebrow at Merlin.

"Come in, of course. You're all welcome. I don't have more than one guest room, but we can figure it out…" Merlin motioned for them to come into his house.

"We're not staying," Byron said a little too quickly. Ryll glanced at him with a frown.

"But you just got here!" she protested, holding him back a little while the others entered the house. "Why would you leave again?"

"Let's go inside and talk," Byron said. "It's something everyone needs to hear. Trust me."

Ryll nodded. "I do. But I also know that you, like me, have a tendency to go off and do something dumb for the sake of your friends."

"I guess that both got us killed in the end." He tried to make a joke of it but neither laughed.

"Not this time," Ryll said. "I've had my life taken from me once. We both had our lives cut short."

"And I would cut it short a thousand times to save you," Byron said fiercely.

"In the end it didn't matter," Ryll said quietly. "It turned out no one could save me. But I'd give my life again for Merlin. It was worth it." Byron's expression darkened for half a moment and Ryll wondered if he still harbored feelings for her. She reached out a hand and touched his shoulder. "I do appreciate how much you fought to protect me," she told him. "You died a hero's death."

"I died a fool's death," Byron said, pulling away. "Not because I died for you – never that – but because I rushed in without thinking. I let my heart get in the way of my head. I'm not going to let that happen again." He walked into the house, leaving Ryll standing on the doorstep feeling the weight of all they'd been through on her shoulders. None of them were the same. Byron had always had a tendency for anguished thoughts, but this Byron was tormented. Ryll felt her happiness dripping away slowly though she tried to put a stopper to it, keep it as full as it had been a moment before when she'd seen her friends again.

"It's not the same," she said quietly to herself. She wasn't sure if that was what she wanted – to pick up where they left off, to go on with their lives like nothing had changed. It wasn't possible. They'd been through too much, weathered too many years. They could never go back. But that wasn't the point of a second chance.

"Are you coming?" Merlin said, poking his head out the door. His smile slid when he saw her face, but she put on a brave smile and nodded.

"I just had to take it all in for a moment," she told him.

"It's a little overwhelming," he agreed. "But it also feels like coming home."

…

Morgana accepted a mug of tea from Merlin, sipping quietly at it while the others glanced around, waiting for someone to speak first. There was a tension in the air she hadn't expected. They all had different stories, different paths that had led them to this point. Their pasts felt somehow unresolved, but it wasn't the past she wanted to talk about.

It was Lancelot who started talking first. He started from the beginning for Arthur's sake. Morgana wasn't sure how much Ryll and Merlin had told him, but she knew they wouldn't want to overwhelm him. Lancelot explained how he'd awoken one day in this world to find himself bound to Uther. It was like an invisible tether that kept him from disobeying Uther's orders. Whatever magic it was, Uther wasn't behind it even if he used it to his advantage. "He still hates magic. Still thinks it ruined everything before."

"Won't Uther notice you're gone?" Merlin asked. "Can he call you back?"

"I don't know. I've never had reason to leave. Not until now. I was just waiting for someone else to come back. Until then I figured it was best to play along, gather information. Uther has spies everywhere waiting for a hint of Arthur. One of his spies spotted Ryll in Ealdor. Uther sent me to see if it was her and if she had her memories back. I'm unclear on why some people came back with their memories and some didn't, but it was clear right away that Ryll didn't remember who she had been." He turned to look at her. "I reported back to Uther because it was a direct order."

"We all know you're not really Uther's spy," Ryll reassured him. Owl sat in her lap, and Ryll stroked her back as if seeking comfort in the cat's low purr.

"Anyway, then, shortly after, Morgana turned up at Uther's castle. She'd been taken forcibly from Ryll's flat. I couldn't believe Uther had done something like that. If he wanted to earn his daughter's forgiveness, kidnapping her was hardly a good way to start. I helped her get away from him and to Morgause and Nimueh. I thought it was the safest place for her, especially with her magic coming back." Arthur's expression was hard to read as he listened to what his father had done.

"He saved me that night. I was furious with Uther. I could have easily lost control of my magic, but he knew just where to take me," Morgana said.

"I'm surprised Morgause and Nimueh let you leave," Merlin said.

"Morgause didn't want to," Morgana said. "She's protective of me, but she can't keep me under her wing forever. Nimueh seemed to understand more than her." She then told them of her and Byron's encounter with the woman from the Crystal Caves, how she'd told Morgana of a prophecy, claiming Morgana to be the one it referred to. She stopped before telling them about the suggestion that they visit the real Crystal Caves. "I didn't believe her at first," she was quick to say. "I'm not sure I do now."

"I do," Ryll said, the first to speak. Morgana gave her a grateful smile. Ryll had always been quick to defend her, even when she didn't deserve it. "Why not? It's time for Merlin and me to step back. We had our destinies. It's time for someone else to shape the future."

"I think I know what I need to do next," Morgana said, glancing between Byron and Lancelot. Lancelot gave her an encouraging nod while Byron frowned. Morgana forged ahead, elaborating on their visit to the crystal gift store. "She said the answers we seek are in the Crystal Caves. The real ones." She turned to Merlin. "I was going to do a locator spell, but you must know where they are."

"They're blocked," Merlin told her. "I tried to get in years ago, but I couldn't. Even magic couldn't remove the rubble. It was almost as if it was protected by a strong enchantment."

"Maybe it's waiting for the right person to open it," Lancelot spoke up, his eyes set on Morgana. She flushed. "I'm not even sure what my magic can do anymore."

"More than me," Ryll said wryly.

"If we can get into the caves, we should be able to solve that," Morgana told her. She'd give Ryll her own magic if it was possible. Ryll had always used magic more sensibly than Morgana had.

"We don't know what will await us there. We've learned that Uther seeks to destroy magic by destroying the caves," Lancelot said. "I'm not sure how. Especially if no one can access them."

"I need to speak with him," Arthur said. "I know tensions are high and everyone is trying to work toward a different goal without stirring the waters too much, but what he's doing is wrong. It's not his right to make this decision."

"Well, I think that would come better from you than any of the rest of us," Ryll said.

Merlin looked unsure and Morgana could see how much he wanted the king to stay right here where he could keep an eye on him. He couldn't coddle Arthur like Morgause tried to coddle her though. Arthur could make up his own mind, and he _was_ the best choice for trying to make Uther see reason.

"I think that's a good idea," Morgana said. "He's been looking for you. He wants his family back together, but only when magic is destroyed and I'm no longer 'tainted'."

"You're not tainted," Arthur said. "It might have taken me a long time to realize that, but I'm not making that mistake again." He turned to look at the others. "All of you save Lancelot have magic, and all of you have been the truest friends I could ever hope for. If there are answers in the Crystal Caves, then that's where you need to go, but I have no business there. This isn't about me. I need to speak to my father."

"There's still so much to teach you," Merlin protested.

"And I will have time to learn, but right now that's unimportant. I know enough to get by. I won't have a heart attack when a car drives by or someone turns on a television." Morgana smiled at her brother's usage of modern words. They sounded strange coming out of his mouth, but their lives were anything but normal these days. "Have you come across anyone else?" Arthur asked. "Some men tried to stop us when Merlin and Ryll first found me but then another group intervened."

"Those were your knights," Lancelot told him. "They're all here and they still serve you, throne or not."

Arthur looked pleased, but Morgana knew he was silently wondering if Gwen was anywhere to be found. She didn't want to break his heart by telling him she couldn't locate her with magic. "We want to go to the caves as soon as possible," she said. "The knights are distracting Uther's efforts to destroy the caves, but I'm not sure how much time we have. We need to move quickly."

"Then we'll leave as soon as possible," Ryll said.

Byron gave Morgana an angry look, but Morgana just shook her head. Byron could try to keep Ryll from coming, but she wasn't going to. It was her right to come. It had to be her decision.

"Is there a problem?" Ryll asked, looking between Morgana and Byron.

"I don't want you getting hurt again," Byron said stiffly.

"So you don't want me to come?" she asked.

"I don't want you to be put in danger. I don't want you to get hurt protecting one of us. I don't want you to..." He cut off his words.

"To die," Ryll finished them for him. "I don't plan on dying in this lifetime. At least not yet."

"You don't have your magic, and we have no idea what we'll be facing," Byron argued. Morgana wished he'd give it up. There was no reasoning with Ryll when it came to quests like this.

"So I'm defenseless without my magic?" Ryll asked. Her tone was light, but Morgana saw an impatience burning behind her eyes. "Did I use magic as a knight?" she asked.

"That's not what I meant. I know you're not defenseless. But the Crystal Caves are magical. Old magic. A magic I can't even begin to understand."

"Then we get my magic back. If that's what you think will keep me safe. But why would I be in danger with you and Lancelot and Morgana and Merlin at my side?"

"Some one needs to drive Arthur back to White Castle," Merlin pointed out.

"I'll do it," Lancelot said. Morgana turned to him, a rush of disappointment surprising her. He looked at her when he spoke. "I trust Merlin, Ryll, and Byron to keep you safe," he said. "More than that I believe you can take care of yourself. I don't have magic. I don't belong in those caves. Let me bring Arthur back to his father. I can keep an eye on things back there. You can call me any time, and I'll be there as quickly as I can. I promise."

Morgana nodded. "Okay," she said, wishing he could stay with them. She'd grown used to his presence. It was familiar and comfortable to her somehow. He made her feel confident in a way she could never achieve on her own.

"We can all leave tomorrow morning," Merlin said. "It's a two hour drive to the caves from here. Anyway, you just got here." Morgana thought he probably wasn't quite ready to let Arthur out of his sight either. She found herself wishing they could stay together as if they'd never find each other again if they parted. She knew that wasn't true, but this wasn't Camelot and the world seemed so much bigger, ready to swallow them whole. "Will you at least let me give you a few more lessons on the modern world before you go off?" Merlin asked Arthur who rolled his eyes.

"Your lack of confidence in me is not reassuring," he said to Merlin.

"Maybe it's just nice bossing _you_ around for a change," Merlin suggested with a cheeky grin.

"Don't get used to it."

...

After they had lunch Merlin dragged Arthur off for a modern world lesson while Byron and Ryll caught up. Lancelot had disappeared so Morgana went in search of him. She found him standing in Merlin's backyard under one of the shade trees that stood like a giant sentinel at the edge of the property. "It's so peaceful," he said, turning to Morgana. She joined him, gazing out on a small river that ran behind the property.

"It is," she agreed. "It's a place where you can forget your troubles."

Lancelot turned to her. "What troubles you?" he asked softly. There was genuine concern in his eyes, and Morgana soaked it in. It had been a long time since she'd had that from someone.

"I just feel like we're getting close to the end and I'm afraid of what it holds," she told him.

"I don't think it's the end we're getting close to," he told her, turning to face her. "I think we're getting closer to the beginning."

"The beginning of what?" Morgana questioned him.

"Our lives," he replied with a faint smile.

"I like the sound of that," Morgana returned the smile. "Maybe I just have this fear that everything will turn out like it did last time. These alliances we've formed, will they lead to the result we want or will some of us always be enemies?"

"Some of us meaning Uther? I don't know. I think it's important to realize that you can't make up his mind for him. Don't try to put that on your shoulders. I hope Arthur can influence him but, in the end, Uther has to decide what he wants to become of this life. He has no right to ruin your life though."

"Yours either," Morgana said. "I'm going to try to free you. You deserve better. After all you've done for me, it's the least I can do."

"You owe me nothing," Lancelot said softly. His eyes were set on hers, and she found her cheeks growing warm under his gaze. He'd done everything to help her even after what she'd done to him in their past life. There had never been any hesitation. That was the kind of person Morgana wanted to be. She moved a step closer without making a conscious decision to do so.

"But I want to do this," she told him, her voice barely above a whisper. "I want to free you." Her fingers brushed his hand, and he entwined his fingers with hers. She blushed at the contact, but he didn't let go. They stood that way a long time until the sun began to set and the chill in the air drove them back inside.


	27. Parting Ways

**Author's Note:** Sorry for such a long wait. I have nearly no free time these days. I wake up, get ready for work, go to work, eat a quick lunch, go to my other job, come home, eat dinner, go to bed. That's basically my life 6 days a week because I'm still averaging one day off a week... But I was determined to get a chapter posted. The only reason I've been posting in my other story is because I'd already written those chapters and just needed to edit them before posting. Anyway, I'll be getting three new coworkers at one job, so that will give me some more free time coming up soon, I hope.

Anyway, thank you for reading as always and for favorites and follows! I promise to finish this story, but I'm not sure when I'll get the next chapter up. I do have tomorrow off, but I'm not sure I'll feel like writing. We'll see.

* * *

 **-Twenty-Seven-**

 **Parting Ways**

"You're sure?" Merlin asked for the third time as Arthur pulled on one of Merlin's spare coats. Arthur looked quite modern in his new clothes. Merlin had taken him shopping yesterday to build up a new wardrobe, and Ryll wished she could have been there for that. She could only imagine the look on Arthur's face when he realized no one was going to help him dress even in the ridiculous zippered pants. Arthur's hair was a little more ruffled than usual, and he looked more a young man than a king.

Arthur sighed. "Merlin, I swear if you ask me that one more time I'm going to buy a lifetime supply of buckets to dump over your head."

"Okay, okay!" Merlin said, holding his hands up in defeat. "Just…don't let Uther tell you who you need to be. That's your decision and only yours."

"I know," Arthur said. "There's no throne to try to shape me for this time." He turned to Morgana. "Good luck," he told her. "I'll try to make him see that there's nothing wrong with your magic."

"If I can change then hopefully he can too," she said. She hesitated and then reached out to embrace Arthur. "Good luck to you too."

Lancelot embraced Merlin and Ryll and shook Byron's hand before turning to Morgana. There was something there, Ryll thought. It was fleeting, but when Morgana put her arms around Lancelot for a quick hug, she saw the flash of regret on Lancelot's face. Morgana smiled at him. "I'll see you soon," she told him. Lancelot smiled back at her, and Ryll realized she had rarely seen him smile so genuinely. After all they had been through, the tragedy of his last days in Camelot, it was good to see him smile.

"All right. I guess we'll head out too." Merlin, Byron, Morgana, and Ryll had packed what they thought they'd needed. Ryll had no idea what awaited them. She had no weapons, but Merlin had a huge collection on the wall of his study. He'd handed her a familiar sword that morning.

"It's yours," he'd told her. "I kept it after…after you died." Ryll's eyes had flashed to his. She knew he had trouble talking about her death, but he was finally starting to speak of it with less heartbreak. "Take it with you. Just in case."

The others took a knife each. Tåhey didn't know just what they'd be facing in the caves. There could be beasts in there, enchantments. It had been blocked off for ages, but according to Merlin, the magic was festering inside.

Ryll had left Owl with a bowl of food and water, and Merlin had enchanted them to refill automatically. It felt like old times, going off on an adventure with her friends. It had been a long time since Morgana had come with them but, as they piled into Merlin's car, Ryll felt a pulse of excitement under her skin. She reached over and squeezed Morgana's hand, giving her friend a wide smile. Morgana returned the smile.

Byron looked tense in the passenger seat, so Ryll kneed the back of the seat. He scowled back at her. "You're not one of those people who asks 'are we there yet?' every half an hour, are you?" he asked. There was a smile behind his scowl, and she couldn't hold back her laugh.

"I might do it just to annoy you."

"Yeah, I definitely missed this," Byron said sarcastically, heaving a sigh. Ryll knew he was only teasing her.

"I missed it too," she said. As the sun sent scattered shards across the car, playing tag with the trees on either side of the road, Ryll slid on her sunglasses and rolled the window down. She leaned her head against the side of the car and let the breeze hit her face. For a moment she was back in Camelot riding Owl. She could almost hear the beating of hooves on the ground, see the clumps of grass tearing up and flying backwards under the sheer velocity of their flight. She could hear laughter and good-hearted jeering. She could see her friends.

 _The hills fairly rumbled with the sound of hooves as dawn broke over the horizon like a new era. Birds took to the sky in a frantic flapping of wings, startled out of their search for insects in the long prairie grass. Wind hummed along Owl's neck as Ryll crouched down low over her mane. Laughter bubbled up inside her, and she glanced over her shoulder to see how far behind the others were. Lancelot and Gwaine were closest with Leon and Percival trailing after them. Ever since Ryll had become a knight, competitions like this had become a daily occurrence. Anything to show up the boys._

 _Gwaine's horse pulled up level to Owl. He gave her a lopsided grin. "Getting slow, Ryll," he teased as his horse pulled ahead._

" _Not on your life." Ryll took the challenge, urging Owl on faster. Gwaine's stallion, Gallant, ran neck-to-neck with the smaller mare. The tree they were racing to up ahead was within view, and Ryll leaned further forward until she was nearly flat against Owl's neck. The small mare flicked her ears as a silent message passed between the horse and rider. She started to draw ahead of Gallant, and Ryll could hear Gwaine cursing rather un-gallantly as she and Owl passed him up. Ryll didn't dare look back until they had passed the tree. She whistled, and Owl slowed. Ryll sat back in the saddle and looked to see how far behind the other knights were. Gwaine was closest with Lancelot's white horse working his long legs to catch up. Leon and Percival were a ways back, their horses looking a bit slow today. Elyan was on the morning guard otherwise he would have joined them but usually it was a contest between Ryll and Gwaine. Everything was a contest between them._

" _Ha!" Ryll shouted as he pulled up looking dismayed._

" _Rub it in, why don't you," he said, shaking his dark hair out of his face._

" _Like you're ever modest about anything," she shot back. They were both smiling though. "Like that time last week when you won the sword tournament against the other knights – a tournament you made up on the spot, might I add."_

" _They looked like they needed some practice," he said with a shrug._

" _And then there was that time you nearly lost a week's wage gambling at The Rising Sun."_

" _I won though."_

" _Only because the other man was drunker than you."_

" _What's your point?"_

" _You're a sore loser, that's my point."_

" _Well you're not much better yourself!"_

" _But I have something to prove."_

" _What do you have to prove?" Lancelot had finally reached them, pulling up his white horse who huffed and bent his head to graze._

" _That she's better than any other knight in Camelot," Gwaine volunteered._

" _Not true!" Ryll objected. "Just that I can be a knight even though I'm a girl."_

" _You don't have to prove that to anyone. They can see it for themselves," Lancelot told her._

" _You have to say that. You're my best friend," she said._

" _Don't say that, now Gwaine will be competing with me for that title," Lancelot teased, dark eyes playful. "And anyway I don't have to say that. It's true. You're as good a swordsperson as any other knight and a better horseperson than most."_

" _Your taste in men is questionable though," Gwaine said, giving her a wink._

" _You only say that because I never fell for that silver tongue of yours."_

" _It is a shame," Gwaine lamented. "It usually works. Nine out of ten girls fall for it."_

" _And then they really get to know you."_

" _Know who?" Percival and Leon rode up neither looking too concerned about having lost the race. Leon tended not to join them, but they'd insisted today. Percival, despite his outward appearance, was too kind-hearted to be competitive._

" _Gwaine. We're discussing his romantic pursuits. He thinks he's quite the lady's man."_

 _Leon cracked a smile, and Percival chuckled. "Why is everyone laughing?" Gwaine asked, looking affronted._

" _If you have to ask, you wouldn't understand," Ryll told him. He huffed._

" _We should head back before Arthur notices half his knights are missing," Lancelot said. "I've got to be back for the noon patrol."_

" _I'm having lunch with Merlin," Ryll said beaming._

" _Lunch?" Gwaine cocked an eyebrow. "I swear you two are the most boring couple in history. I caught them sitting in the library reading one afternoon."_

" _So?" Ryll frowned._

" _So? Reading? Never mind."_

" _Just because we're not all over each other doesn't mean we don't care about each other," Ryll retorted. "We're happy the way things are."_

" _Leave it alone," Lancelot told Gwaine as the knight opened his mouth to say something more._

" _I was just going to wish her a lovely lunch," Gwaine said, crossing his arms._

" _Right." Ryll rolled her eyes, turning Owl back toward Camelot._

Ryll opened her eyes, the memory fading away along with Merlin's little town of Forest Ridge. She found herself already missing it but not as much as she missed Camelot. Maybe it hadn't fully hit her just yet – that her life in Camelot was over, that she couldn't go back. Her golden years had faded, and she was left with what remained. In all truth, she wasn't exactly sure what that was. She felt like a washed up version of herself. She'd already experienced all the good and all the pain and everything in between. Where did that leave her? She knew there were always new experiences to be had, but there had been nothing wrong with the old ones. Life had seemed so complicated back then, but the life she had awoken in seemed even more so. There weren't beasts and armies trying to kill her or Arthur or Merlin anymore, but the problems they faced went deeper than that. They couldn't be fixed with a sword or an army. Ryll wasn't a knight anymore.

Somehow that thought hit her hard. She'd wanted to be one her entire life and she had finally achieved that. She'd made history but now there was no place for a knight. Her achievement meant very little to this world and even if her friends still remembered it, there was still no armor for her to wear, no battle for her to fight. Not in the traditional sense. Her sword was a relic now, and she wondered if she still remembered how to use it. _Where does that leave us?_ She'd asked that question so many times over the last few days that it echoed in her head like a death chant. She just wished she had the answer. She wanted to believe that the caves held all the answers, that everything would be made clear as soon as they entered them, but a part of her knew it wouldn't be that easy. Nothing was ever easy, but now she lacked the confidence she'd once held. Had she really grown so insecure that she needed to hide behind armor and a sword? She hadn't needed to before. She hadn't been wearing armor when she'd saved Morgana's life that first day they'd met. She hadn't needed a sword when she'd leapt in front of Merlin and taken the arrow meant for him. Why now was she so afraid to face her future? There had been a time when her future had looked bleak, a time when she'd been left an orphan, forced to steal for survival. There had been a time when she'd been a slave to Hengist, the crime lord who'd trained her to be his personal thief and assassin. There had been a time she thought she might die from an arrow wound. Ironic really considering an arrow had killed her in the end. If she hadn't come across Morgana that day, if she hadn't taken that that arrow for her and been rushed into Camelot to be healed, what would her life have been? And if that cursed arrow, forged in dragon's flames, hadn't hit her, hadn't been coming straight at Merlin, what then would her life have been?

She realized she needed to stop thinking about what her life could have been and what her life could _be_. She touched her finger where a ring might sit. It felt oddly naked as if the ring she'd never gotten the chance to wear needed to be there for her to feel whole. Why did she feel as if she _had_ seen what could be? Whenever she thought about it, she got glimpses of a familiar memory, fuzzy and faded like an old photograph. Was she happy? She thought so. She remembered feeling happy. She'd long ago realized that visions could be misleading though. There was no timestamp on them telling her exactly when something was going to happen, and there were always multiple outcomes. Why then did she long so much for a future she couldn't even remember and couldn't even say whether it was real or not?

…

It was odd heading away from Morgana and Merlin and Ryll, Lancelot thought as he drove away from Forest Ridge and back toward White Castle. He felt as if his loyalties were torn, and that had never happened before. There were times when he'd kept the truth from Arthur like Merlin's magic, but he'd kept his duty to his king. Now it was torn between Arthur and Morgana. They were on the same side, but he felt as if he was at the wrong person's side. He glanced over at Arthur. The king was looking out the window, his brow furrowed as the unfamiliar world flashed by. Lancelot felt a twinge of guilt. Of course Arthur needed him at his side. This was a big adjustment for him, and Lancelot was still loyal to him even if Arthur was no longer a king.

"Let me know when you get hungry," he told Arthur. "We can pull over for lunch in a few hours."

"Right." Arthur cast Lancelot a glance, and Lancelot could tell he was bursting with questions while still trying to retain his dignity. "I suppose they just serve you at the side of the road?"

"There are restaurants. We'll pass through a few small towns. I might need to fill the tank." He glanced down at the petrol meter. "The car's tank, that is. It runs on petrol which you buy at a petrol station."

"Ah."

"Kind of like when you feed a horse oats for extra energy," Lancelot said with a smile.

Arthur returned the smile. "Do you feed it carrots for a treat then?"

"Well, you could always get premium petrol or get it a tune up."

"You make it sound like it's alive." Arthur cast a suspicious glance toward the engine, and Lancelot chuckled.

"Only in its mechanics. It can't think."

"Well thank goodness for that." Arthur glanced down at the map Lancelot had provided him. "It looks so different. How can I have once been king of this land? I don't even recognize it. I couldn't even tell you where Camelot was."

"It's been a long time," Lancelot told him. "That world doesn't exist anymore."

"But Camelot does. The castle still stands." Merlin and Ryll had told them about their explorations of the castle. Lancelot would never forget the look on Arthur's face when he had learned that the castle was in ruins. "We could rebuild." He sounded so hopeful, and Lancelot didn't want to take that hope away.

"We could."

"But for what purpose?" Arthur asked. It wasn't his question but the question he knew was lingering in Lancelot's mind. Lancelot hadn't wanted to put it into words, but Arthur seemed to know what he was thinking.

"There is no farmland left. No crops to be grown. There are no people to rule, no title to claim."

"But I still have my knights," Arthur said.

"You do have that," Lancelot agreed. "And your friends and your family."

"Not quite all of it."

They fell silent, and Lancelot felt a stab of pain at the thought of Gwen. He had once loved her too and though Arthur had won her heart, Lancelot still loved her for being the most kind and caring person he'd ever met. The world seemed a dimmer place without her, and he knew Arthur probably saw the world in shades of night without Gwen's brilliant shine to brighten everyone's lives. He could make empty promises that they'd find her, but those promises had already been made, and he wasn't even sure if they could keep them.

"It's something to hold onto," Arthur said finally. "I loved Camelot, and that will never change even if it only holds a place in legends. It will always hold a place in my life because it's a part of who I am."

"No one's asking you to let go," Lancelot assured him.

"Just to move forward."

"I know it's hard, but you can't go back. None of us can. We have to keep moving forward and trust that our memories will keep our pasts safe. Camelot will never be gone if we don't forget it, and I don't intend to."

"You're a good man, Lancelot. You don't need to be a knight to be as honorable as one."

"And you don't need a throne to be as noble as a king."

Arthur was gazing out the window as Lancelot spoke, but he saw Arthur's face light up, a smile touching the corners of his mouth.

"What king needs a kingdom when he has friends like you?"


	28. The Crystal Caves

**Author's Note:** A chapter! Finally! Sheesh, took me long enough. I do have the excuse of getting a second job and moving into an apartment and not having internet for three weeks, but I'm back into writing mode now! I even have some ideas. This is the last chapter in part two which I should have written a month ago, but here it is. I'll be working on part three asap! Thank you for all the favorites and follows! I really appreciate it. Thanks for sticking with me. I will finish this story! And no more month long breaks between chapters!

* * *

 **-Twenty-Eight-**

 **The Crystal Caves**

Ryll had never seen the Crystal Caves in her lifetime. She didn't know exactly what to expect. Perhaps towering mountains filled with glittering stalactites and stalagmites. And perhaps that _was_ what was within the caves, but right now all she could see was what looked like an abandoned quarry. A pile of collapsed rocks blocked the entrance and if Ryll hadn't already known what she was looking at, she would never have suspected this had once been the entrance to the famous Crystal Caves. Merlin pulled the car over and cut the engine. The caves lay amidst the woods and a dried up riverbed fronted them. Merlin had looked for other entrances before, he'd told them, but everything had been blocked off as if the caves did not want anyone to enter them. Ryll was hesitant to believe it was because of some preordained path they were on or destiny. Maybe by now she should have stopped doubting destiny. Her whole life, it seemed, had been part of a destiny much bigger than her. She didn't like the idea of someone pulling her strings though.

Her shoes crunched on the broken stone, and dust stirred up as she walked forward. Signs of Uther's attempts to breach the caves stood out here. There was heavy machinery sleeping in the clearing and some of the trees had been torn down to make more room. Scrape marks indicated where they'd tried to remove the rubble, but nothing looked disturbed other than the trees and the dirt.

"Doesn't look like he got very far," Byron said as he joined Ryll. Morgana hung back.

"I didn't either," Merlin admitted, putting a hand against the stones blocking the entrance. "It wouldn't budge under my magic." He turned to Morgana. "But maybe yours."

"What makes you think I can get us in?" Morgana asked.

"That prophecy was about you," Byron said.

"It didn't say anything about me getting into the caves."

"We have to try," Bryon told her. "That cave holds the answers. It might hold Ryll's magic."

"You're strong, Morgana," Ryll said, walking over to her friend and taking her hand. "But this is your choice. If you don't want to use your magic, then don't. We can find another way."

"No." Morgana shook her head. "There is no other way. You're right." She stepped forward, standing before the wall of fallen stones. The wind stirred around her, and Ryll wasn't sure if it was her magic or just a storm brewing. "I can feel the magic inside," Morgana said softly. "It's like it has a pulse…a heartbeat." She pulled her hand back. "It's like nothing I've ever felt before."

"I can feel it too," Merlin said. Byron nodded in agreement, but Ryll couldn't feel anything. She tried putting her hand against the stones but all she felt was the dusty, rough surface.

Byron turned to look at her, but all she said was, "What are we waiting for?" In truth she was eager to get her magic back. She felt unnecessary and useless right now, and it was not a feeling she enjoyed. Merlin gave her a sympathetic look, but she shrugged her shoulders.

"I think you should stand back," Morgana said. She looked serious, hazel eyes set on the stones like they were a puzzle she was trying to solve. They moved back to Merlin's car leaving Morgana alone before the caves. She held out her hands. At first nothing happened, but then Ryll felt the earth beneath her feet begin to shake. Cracks were appearing in the dry earth, spreading like roots until they reached the heavy machinery. There was a creaking as the equipment began to sink. The earth collapsed underneath, burying them below. Then the rocks covering the entrance began to tremble. Ryll kept her eyes on Morgana. The girl was concentrating hard, but as the rocks began to shift, Ryll saw her begin to tremble a little. The magic was taking its toll on her, and Ryll could do nothing to help. She turned to Merlin but he was already reaching out his magic to aid Morgana. His eyes glowed amber, and suddenly the rocks burst from the entrance. They scattered, and Ryll threw her arms over her face. Nothing hit her though. The rocks splayed out around them on the ground, leaving the four of them unharmed. The silence that followed the explosion of stone was choked with dust. Ryll could barely make out Morgana's form ahead, but as the dust cleared, her eyes moved to the gaping hole in the side of the caves. The entrance. The path had been opened to them. Part of her wanted to get into the car and go back. She had wanted answers for so long but now that she was faced with them, she was terrified. What if she didn't like the answers she received? What if she could never get her magic back? The others looked equally worried as they stepped forward toward the caves. Merlin looked back when Ryll didn't follow at once.

He held out a hand for her and, after a moment, she took it. Whatever they would face in the caves, they would face it together. She took a deep breath as Merlin led her toward the dark entrance. Morgana had already entered, Byron right behind her. Ryll hesitated before setting foot inside the caves. She rocked back on her heels, and Merlin stopped, turning around and taking her other hand.

"Whatever is in there, we're going to be all right," he told her.

"Sometimes learning the truth doesn't leave you all right," Ryll said.

"And sometimes staying in the dark leaves you lost," Merlin said gently. "I know you're scared. I am too, but the answers are in there. I can feel it. Don't you want to understand what happened in our last life? Don't you want to know why you came back?"

Ryll nodded after a moment. "I do," she said. She took a deep breath and stepped forward. "Let's get some answers."

…

The air was bitterly cold inside the caves and it sent chills up Morgana's arms. It was thick too, musty and unused. It weighed down on her oppressively until she felt like she couldn't breathe. She wanted to turn around and find the open air again, but she forced herself to keep going. Her footsteps echoed in the open space, and she could hear water dripping up ahead. So far none of the legendary crystals were in sight. Morgana was starting to think the caves had been overhyped, but she could still feel the ancient magic pulsing through them. It called to her, and she was both eager and fearful to answer the call. The light was fading as she travelled further into the caves and she used her magic to create a light ahead of her. It burned as a bright ball and led her onward, casting shadows across the walls. Her magic felt stronger than ever and she couldn't imagine why she'd wanted it gone before. It felt so right, a part of her. She couldn't imagine being without it. She fingered the crystal that had once belonged to Ryll. Did Ryll feel the magic's call too? She turned to ask her, but Morgana found herself facing the empty tunnel of the caves.

"Ryll?" Her voice echoed around the caves but there was no answering reply. "Byron? Merlin?" When no one answered she started back the way she'd come. Instead of leading her back to the entrance, she found herself in an open part of the cave she hadn't seen before. She stopped sort. There were crystals here. They weren't very big and the magic wasn't very strong, but they gleamed in her magic light. She forgot her lost companions for a moment and moved forward into the room. Tunnels led off from the room going in five different directions. They all looked the same to her. She moved toward each, feeling out the magic. The one on the left felt the strongest so she took that tunnel hoping the others would catch up to her. Something kept her moving as if she had limited time to get to the center of the caves. The tunnels ran on and on, and Morgana got twisted and turned around until she was hopelessly lost. Her magical light dimmed leaving her in the darkness.

A light to her right caught her eye. There was something there, and she moved toward it hoping it was the way out. It wasn't. She stopped short. This cave was lit up by a crack in the ceiling, but that wasn't what caught her eye. She stepped forward into a forest of crystals. Some were bigger than a car, reaching high up into the looming cave. Some pointed downward, sharp as daggers. Morgana caught reflections in the crystals. She was too terrified to look for longer than a second.

"Such power."

Morgana jumped as a voice interrupted the silence of the caves. She whirled around but could find no one.

"Over here."

Morgana walked carefully across the cave, ready to defend herself if necessary. There was something familiar about the voice, and she realized why a moment later. A particularly tall and wide crystal stood in the center of the cave. It was like a mirror, reflecting back Morgana's image. It wasn't a mirror image though.

"Hello Morgana," the reflection spoke. Morgana stared at herself, hardly believing what she was seeing. She wore a ragged black dress covered in a ratty coat. Her hair was a wren's nest, tangled and knotted. Her eyes were hard and desperate, her cheekbones sharp. "You don't look happy to see me."

This was the Morgana she'd left behind, the hateful, desperate Morgana who wanted to hurt her friends, who craved power.

"I am not you anymore," she said, her voice coming out in a hiss.

"Are you sure about that?" her reflection asked. "Shall we put it to the test?"

"I am done with you!" She shouted this time, her voice ringing around the caves like a cacophonous symphony. "I left you behind in the last life." She turned to leave but her reflection laughed behind her. It was a cruel sound, and Morgana closed her eyes for a moment as she remembered the hatred she'd once felt. _Had_ she really left that girl behind? If she had then why was she laughing at Morgana's back, reflected in the crystal?

Morgana took a deep breath and turned around to face her reflection. "Fine," she said. "Test me."

"If you wish," her reflection said. She twirled her hand and the light from above suddenly dimmed. Morgana was plunged into darkness. She tried to summon her magic, but found it diminished.

"Let the tests begin." The voice was a whisper against her ear. A light was growing now, emanating from the crystal. Now she saw a forest reflected perfectly in the surface. She walked toward it and put a hand forward, testing the stone. Her hand went straight through and she could feel the warmth of the sun in the forest beyond. She pulled her hand back and looked around but all she could see was the light from the image. She straightened her back, refusing the fear that pressed against her, and stepped into the stone.

…

Merlin and Ryll caught up to Byron who was looking a little lost. "Have you seen Morgana?" he asked. "I was right behind her, but then I lost her. I don't know what happened."

"You lost her? Are there any other tunnels?" Ryll asked, frowning.

"Not that I've come across. She probably just hurried ahead. We'll catch up to her," Byron said, but he didn't sound too sure. He sounded unsettled which was just about how Ryll was feeling. The air was oppressive here, and she didn't want to linger. She didn't know what she'd been expecting, but it wasn't this musty, dark place. She felt no magic, but that was most likely her own deficiency and not the cave's. She looked over at Merlin, but he was tightlipped and said nothing. She took his hand and kept close, not wanting to get separated. Byron had move up ahead and called back to them that he had found something. They hurried ahead and found him standing in the entrance to another part of the cave. There was a trickle of water and they found that a river ran straight through the cave.

"We should follow it," Byron suggested, splashing through to the other side where it exited into another tunnel. Merlin and Ryll followed after him, Merlin lighting the way with his magic. The river led further and further into the caves and here the air was humid. Ryll's hair stuck to her face where the moisture clung to her, and she pushed it back. They found Byron standing at a solid wall. The river they'd been following led straight under the wall and there was no way to follow it. Two tunnels ran along either side of the wall but it was unclear which one would find the river's path again.

"Which way do we go?" Ryll asked.

Merlin was quiet for a moment. Then he pointed right. "I can feel the magic that way," he said. Ryll felt nothing, but she followed him and Byron nonetheless. Her worry for Morgana was increasing. She could have taken the other tunnel. They could be hopelessly lost, separated for who knew how long. There was no use in separating to find her though. It was best to stick together.

They walked for an uncountable amount of time, and Ryll found herself longing for the sun. After a time she could make out the delicate trickle of the river. They rounded a bend and found themselves at the entrance to a wide cave. Here sunlight flowed in from a large hole in the top of the cave. The river emptied itself into a small lake that occupied most of the cave. Ryll's eyes were set on the tree that grew in the very center though. Its roots were like canals, digging deep into the water. Its branches reached toward the sunlight, and the leaves were a light shade of pink like a cherry tree. They caught the light and shimmered though, and Ryll realized they were not leaves but crystals. They dangled from the branches, swaying in the light breeze. Ryll had never seen anything quite as beautiful as that tree.

"What is it?" Byron asked.

"I think it's the source of the magic," Merlin said softly. "I've never felt anything so powerful."

"I can feel it too," Byron said. "It's like it's calling to my elemental magic." He turned to Ryll. "Can you feel it?" he asked eagerly.

"No," Ryll said, shaking her head. "I can't feel anything."

Byron's face fell. "We'll get your magic back," he told her.

"Maybe it's not meant to come back. Anyway, I thought you said the magic was dying," she said, turning to Merlin. "But yet you say it feels powerful?"

"Powerful, yes," Merlin said. "But dying. Look at the bark."

Ryll gazed past the crystals and saw what Merlin meant. The bark on the tree was peeling and sickly. Some of the branches were cracked as if they were not strong enough to hold the crystals. Some of the crystals had fallen, and Ryll could see them sparkling in the shallows of the lake.

"Something is draining the magic."

"But what?" As far as they knew, no one had breached the caves in centuries.

"There's not enough magic out there in the world to balance it."

"Then how do we save it?"

Merlin turned to look at Ryll. "I don't know," he said.

"We're supposed to find answers here," Byron said, sounding frustrated. "I'm not seeing any answers."

"Maybe there never were any," Ryll said softly. "Maybe we're on our own."

…

The castle grounds were silent and still as Lancelot pulled the car up the drive. He parked in front of the entrance. Arthur got out, stretching gratefully. "It is more comfortable than a horse," he admitted.

Lancelot smiled. "Uther spared no expense when he bought that one."

They walked up the castle steps, entering the front hall. It was silent inside too, and something prickled at the back of Lancelot's mind. He led Arthur up the stairs and to Uther's office. It was empty.

"I'm not sure where he is," he said, looking around for any sign of the king, a note or something. A clattering downstairs caused them both to jump. Lancelot grabbed a sword from a display on the wall, motioning for Arthur to do the same. They crept down the hall and back down the stairs to the entrance hall. The doors to the castle stood wide open. Lancelot tensed his grip on the sword and walked outside.

"Please…." A voice drew their attention and they saw Uther kneeling on the ground next to the car as if he'd been trying to get into it. "Please…leave me…alone…"

Lancelot didn't think Uther was talking to them. He hadn't even noticed them approach. It was Arthur who moved first, running over to his father and kneeling next to him. "Father?" he asked, his voice soft. Uther looked up at his son. His face broke into a smile for a moment, and he reached up to touch Arthur's face. Then his face contorted and he pulled away.

"You must leave," he told Arthur. "Get away from here before she comes."

"Before who comes? Father? Who's coming?" Arthur asked.

Uther was scrambling backwards in the gravel drive. "No, no…" He was muttering incoherently now. Lancelot had never seen him like this.

"What's wrong with him?" Arthur asked helplessly.

"I don't know."

"Who is he talking about?" Arthur got to his feet, looking around them.

"I don't know."

"Ah, excellent. I've got you all together now." A female voice sounded from behind them and Lancelot and Arthur turned to see who spoke. Nimueh walked out from the castle. She wore a tight, red dress, and her hair was pulled back in a braided bun. Her eyes were an unearthly blue that not even the sky could match. Lancelot lifted his sword but suddenly a vice like grip tugged his arm down until his sword was lowered. His hands started shaking and he dropped the sword. Arthur threw him a confused look.

"Lancelot?"

"I can't control…I can't…" He looked up at Nimueh. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Did you seriously think it was Uther controlling you all this time?" Nimueh asked with an amused laugh. "I've been using you as a spy," she told him. "Bending you to my will."

"That's not possible. I would have known…" Lancelot was trying to move, but his body was frozen in place.

"I'm afraid it is. For all your honor, you're incredibly naïve," Nimueh told him.

"Why are you doing this?" Arthur asked. Nimueh turned her eyes to the king.

"Self preservation," she said. "My kind is dying and if I do nothing then our legacy will wither like the magic in the Crystal Caves. Your father would see it destroyed, see _us_ destroyed. I cannot let that happen."

"I don't want to see magic destroyed either," Arthur said. "Morgana is my sister. I don't want to see her lose a part of who she is."

"It changes nothing. The world is afraid of magic. You might have made peace with it long ago, but the world has moved on. The world does not remember your treaties with the druids. The world would see us dead. I will see it dead first."

"Not if I stop you." Arthur lifted his sword.

Nimueh laughed, the sound ringing out, clear and loud. "I don't think so, little princeling."

She flicked her fingers, and Lancelot picked up his sword. He turned to Arthur, raising the weapon. He couldn't control his hands as he pointed the sword at Arthur. "I can't control it," he said. Arthur took a step back.

"You have to fight her," he said. "You're stronger than her."

"You humans are so weak. You don't even see it," Nimueh said. "Lancelot answers to me. Now make sure he doesn't stop us." Lancelot moved toward Arthur, his feet moving of their own accord.

"I'm sorry," he said as he lifted his sword. Nimueh's magic wrapped itself around him and he swung the sword at Arthur.


	29. The Darkness Within

**Part Three: Second Coming**

 **-Twenty-Nine-**

 **The Darkness Within**

Morgana stepped into a forest that felt just as real as the one she'd once ridden through in Camelot. A stiff breeze turned the leaves over above her head, and she could hear a river running somewhere in the distance. It was quiet but not a peaceful quiet; the sort of quiet that might break at any moment. If this was her test, she wasn't sure what she was being tested on.

"Morgana." She turned around sharply and found herself facing someone she never thought she'd see again. A woman stood between the trees where the crystal had once stood. She had long, dark hair like Morgana's and the same hazel eyes.

"Mother?" Morgana asked, her voice hardly above a whisper. Her mother's skin was pale as death and there was something off about her eyes as she gazed at Morgana.

"My daughter." Vivienne reached out a hand toward Morgana.

Morgana reached out and took her hand. It was cold and clammy, and Morgana had to force herself not to pull back. "I have so many questions," she said.

Vivienne smiled sadly. "And so little time to ask them."

"What do you mean?" Morgana looked around them but all was silent and still. Time didn't seem to have a presence here and yet she felt it pressing in on her all the same.

"This is an in between land. Those who come do not stay long or they do not leave at all," Vivienne warned. "What are your questions?"

"Where do I start?" Morgana sighed, turning away from her mother and gathering her thoughts. "Do you have magic? Are you like me?"

"Well you certainly didn't get it from your father," Vivienne said with a laugh.

"No. I don't suppose I did. Why did you have an affair with him? Uther of all people." Morgana wasn't trying to judge her mother but the question had been lingering on her mind ever since she'd discovered Uther was her biological father. She'd never had the chance to learn the truth of why her mother had been with Uther.

Vivienne bowed her head, perhaps in shame. Morgana waited for her answer. "I was staying at the castle," she said. "I was lonely. I suppose he seemed such a great man at the time…"

"It took me nearly twenty years to learn the truth. I overheard him speaking. He wasn't going to tell me. He didn't treat me like a daughter. If he had known about my magic, who knows what he might have done to me."

"I didn't mean for things to play out the way they did." Vivienne took a step toward Morgana. Her eyes were glossy as she gazed at her daughter. "I wanted you to be safe. I didn't realize you'd become Uther's ward after Gorlois and I died."

"Yes, I became his ward. Not his daughter, not his heir, but his ward." The bitterness in her tone surprised her. She thought she had moved past the bitterness, but it was still there. It still hurt to think of all those years living with no real idea of her identity.

"I never meant to leave you," Vivienne told her.

"If you had lived, if I had grown up with a mother and a father, would you have taught me how to use magic?" Morgana asked. She needed to know.

Vivienne's eyes grew sad. "Your father did not know I had magic. I'm not sure what he would have done if he had found out…"

"So you would have kept it hidden from me? Or perhaps taught me in secret, kept me locked away. Do you know how _alone_ I felt? All those years fearing who I was, not understanding. I had no one to confide in until Morgause came into my life and suddenly I had a sister." Her voice was rising now as her emotions overwhelmed her. "What would you have wanted?" she asked, quietly now. "Did you want your daughters to grow up with so much hatred? So much fear?"

"Of course not," Vivienne said. "I wanted what was best for you, for both of you. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. Morgause…" She turned away, gazing off into the distance. "She let her passion overwhelm her. She thought what she was doing was right."

"But it wasn't?" Morgana needed to hear her mother's answer, but Vivienne just shook her head. "Was what we did wrong? When we were hunted, our kind persecuted?"

"You already know the answer to that question," Vivienne said.

Morgana looked away, ashamed. "I know it was wrong. It didn't get us what we wanted and the cost was too high. Morgause shouldn't have died that way and I shouldn't have turned against my friends. I was hurt and alone but that doesn't excuse my actions. Is this part of the test? Is this where I bare my sins and ask for forgiveness?" she asked.

"Your friends have already forgiven you. It's _you_ who must forgive yourself now." Vivienne turned to look over her shoulder. "The trials are about to begin," she told Morgana in a hushed voice. "You must ready yourself."

"What do you mean?" Morgana asked.

Vivienne shook her head wildly. "I must go. They mustn't find me here." She grabbed Morgana's shoulders, her fingers biting into her skin. "Stay true to yourself," she told her before letting go and disappearing between the trees before Morgana could speak.

There was rustling in the woods around Morgana the moment her mother left. Morgana whirled around, but all she could see were darting shadows drawing nearer. A branch cracked behind her, and she turned quickly. Before she could see what had snuck up on her, something hard hit the back of her head and she fell to the ground, the moss damp against her cheek. Her vision was blurred, but she could see a shape looming above her. Her eyes blinked shut.

…

Morgana awoke to find herself in a familiar bed. It had been years – centuries really – but she was back in her old room in Camelot. She sat up, looking around her. How could she be here? This didn't exist anymore. Then she remembered the caves. Her own reflection had told her she would be tested. She'd spoken to her dead mother. Morgana tried to push back her fear and panic, but she didn't understand what was happening or why she was here. As her emotions rose, she felt a new sensation – her magic spiraling out of control. Fire suddenly lit the candles around her room and the flames shot straight into the air. The curtains around her four-poster bed and the windows caught fire. Morgana screamed. She tried to tamp down her powers, but she couldn't control them.

Someone flung the door open, calling out her name. Gwen. She was dressed like a servant, and she hurried to Morgana's side despite the flames and pulled her from the bed. "We need to get out of here," she said, urging Morgana on. "Guards!"

Three guards ran into the room. One grabbed a vase from the table and flung the flowers out before sloshing the water over the curtains. The others went to find more water, but Gwen pulled Morgana away.

"Are you all right?" she asked Morgana. The worry in her eyes – the _care_. It undid Morgana and she started to sob. "Morgana?" Gwen's eyes widened in surprise and she pulled her into a hug. "You're all right."

Morgana tried to stop her tears, pulling herself together. "I'm sorry," she told Gwen once she had control of her voice again. "I just…the flames frightened me." In reality she was terrified. She didn't understand why she was here or what she was supposed to do. She didn't know if this was real or a memory or a dream.

"Are you hurt?" Gwen asked.

Morgana shook her head. "Just startled. Gwen…" She paused, not knowing how to continue. "I'm just glad you're here. Thank you for being such a kind friend."

"Of course," Gwen said, sounding a little surprised. "Do you know what happened?"

Morgana paused. She could say she didn't know or that the candle had gotten too close to the curtains. Or she could tell Gwen the truth. Her heart was pounding now. This couldn't be real… She'd already lived this. She'd already lied and hidden the truth. She knew how that turned out. What if this was a turning point? What if this was her chance to change her future?

"Can I talk to you?" she asked.

"Of course. Shall we go to one of the spare rooms?"

"First I'd like to get Merlin and Ryll. It's something I need to tell them too."

Instead of telling Morgana it was the middle of the night, Gwen simply nodded. "I'll get Merlin," she said.

"I'll get Ryll. We'll meet in her room." Ryll knew of her fore dreams but not her magic at this point if Morgana was remembering correctly. Her past was a patchwork of secrets and deceit, and she found it was hard to keep it clear. She knocked on Ryll's door and heard shuffling within a moment later. Ryll opened the door. Her long, golden hair was pulled into a messy braid and though it looked as if she'd just woken, her eyes were alert.

"Morgana. What's wrong?" she asked, pulling the door open to let Morgana in.

"Merlin and Gwen will be here in a few minutes. There's something I need to tell all of you," Morgana said.

Ryll didn't question her. She just took it in stride, nodding. She motioned for Morgana to take a seat at her dressing table. They were silent as they waited and a thought wormed its way into Morgana's head. What if this was reality and everything that happened after was a fore dream? A long, elaborate fore dream. What if none of it had happened yet and this was the turning point?

"Ryll?" Morgana turned to her friend. "Do you ever get the feeling that something isn't real?"

"All the time. Sometimes I hardly believe the way my life has turned out."

"It's not that…" Morgana paused, gathering her thoughts. "What if I've seen my entire future in a dream? How am I supposed to know what's real? That doesn't even make sense…"

Ryll furrowed her brow. "You think you've seen your future? Beyond the little bits you get in your fore dreams?"

"What if I told you I've lived my future and this moment right here is a repeat in history? Well, not this exact one because I've changed it. Before I didn't come to your room. Before I didn't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you and Merlin and Gwen. Does that sound crazy?" She felt crazy. She felt like she was losing her grasp on reality.

Before Ryll had the chance to reply, there was a tap on the door and Gwen and Merlin entered. "Gwen said you have something you want to tell us?" Merlin said. He joined Ryll on the edge of her bed. Gwen hovered by the door.

"There's something I need to tell all of you because if I don't our lives go down a very different path. I've just discovered something about myself…" It felt odd starting over again but she hadn't known she had magic at this point. Perhaps Ryll and Merlin had guessed it, but she needed to say it out loud. "It started as fore dreams. I would see the future in small glimpses. Everything I saw came true. But I've done other things too… I lit the curtains in my room on fire tonight. I was asleep."

"What are you saying?" Merlin asked. She could see his mind working behind his blue eyes.

"I have magic," Morgana said. "It must have come from my mother. I have magic."

No one spoke for a moment, but she saw no looks of horror. A little surprise from Gwen perhaps, but no hatred or disgust.

"I figured that was why you had fore dreams," Ryll said. "It makes sense. How do you feel about all this?"

"I'm glad I told my friends," Morgana said. "I suppose I'm a little frightened. I've seen what Uther does to people with magic."

"That won't happen to you," Ryll promised her. "I won't let it. He need never know."

"What do you think he'd do if he did know?" Morgana asked. If this were a test then it would be harder than simply telling her friends. She saw the alarm in their eyes though and knew what their answers would be even before they spoke.

"I don't think it's a risk worth taking," Ryll said slowly. "I know you want to have people accept you for who you are but…"

"But you think Uther wouldn't do that. You think he'd treat me just like any other person who practiced magic?" Morgana knew she was probably right, but Ryll didn't know at this point that Uther was Morgana's father.

"I think Uther believes that in order to be a strong king he must persecute _anyone_ who practices magic," Ryll said carefully.

" _Don't you remember what happens next?_ " a voice sounded from behind Morgana and she whirled around.

"Morgana?" Ryll sounded confused, and Morgana realized only she had heard the voice.

"I thought I heard something," Morgana said, turning back to the others.

" _The Witch Finder approaches…_ " the voice was a whisper against her ear, but Morgana did not respond. Her memories stirred though and she recalled what happened next. Gaius would be tortured and Merlin would confess to being a sorcerer to save him. What Uther would not realize, however, was that Merlin spoke the truth. She knew the Witch Finder died in the end, that he didn't execute any of them, but this felt like a test. " _Make your choice…_ " The voice faded and Morgana was left with her friends.

"You're right," Morgana said. "It means a lot to have friends who don't judge me for what I was born as, but Uther thinks everyone who has magic is evil no matter what their actions." What she didn't add was that perhaps it was time that someone challenged him on this. "Thank you for listening, for coming here so late. I'm so lucky to have friends like you."

"We know you, Morgana," Gwen said. "We know that you're a good person. I don't believe magic makes someone evil. It's their actions that define whether they are good or bad."

"That means the world to hear that."

Ryll and Gwen smiled at Morgana while Merlin watched her pensively. It was almost as if he knew just what she had in mind. He said nothing though as he and Gwen left the room. Ryll hugged Morgana tightly and told her she could stay in her room tonight if she wished. Morgana accepted, climbing into the four-poster. She knew with Ryll's presence she would have no more nightmares. She felt more in control of her magic now even if she still wasn't sure if this was the past or the present. She lay awake for a long time thinking of what she was going to do. Uther's rejection and her fear of what he might do to her if he learned the truth had driven her to become the spiteful, unhappy thing she'd seen reflected in the crystal. What if she changed that? What if she put an answer to the mystery behind what Uther would do if he found out she had magic? What if she told Uther Pendragon that she had magic? She would put _him_ to the test and hope it didn't end in her execution.


	30. Dying Magic

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the wait again. I've been working 7 days a week on average so I'm kind of burned out on everything right now... But I'm determined to try to finish this fan fiction soon so it's my goal to write a chapter every 1-2 days. We'll see how well that goes... Sorry for the short chapter. I really wanted to update. Thank you for reading!

* * *

 **-Thirty -**

 **Dying Magic**

Merlin could feel the tree's pain as they stood in the caves at the edge of the lake. It was withering away and the world outside pressed in around it, forcing it to retreat further into itself. The worst part was that he could do nothing to stop it. It was beyond his magic which was humming weakly in response to the tree. Ryll looked lost, and he knew her own magic had not returned to her. Perhaps there was not enough left to give. In a way he felt a kindred spirit to the tree. He'd felt so alone all those years in a world where he'd once again had to hide his magic. At times he'd nearly forgotten who he was, what he could do. What was the purpose of possessing such power if he lived in a world where he didn't need it? He knew exactly what this magic tree was feeling because it _did_ feel. It was just as much alive and conscious as them. He felt the sudden need to lay a hand on its trunk, feel the dying bark beneath his palm.

"We should get closer," Ryll said, voicing his desires. "If I had my magic…" She let the words hang, but Byron moved forward and reached out a hand. The water of the lake stirred like boiling water and then parted in a straight line to the tree. Merlin was the first to set foot on the bottom of the lake, moving past the magicked waves. The water was dark and had an endless depth to it that spoke of despair. Merlin felt himself being dragged under though the water did not touch him. As they neared the tree, he could hear a humming sound resonating from it. He turned to see if the others could hear it, but they weren't even looking at the tree. The humming grew louder and louder until all other noise died out. They had reached the tree now, and Merlin leaned forward, eager to make contact with the tree. He thought he felt Ryll trying to pull him away, but he did not heed her. His need to touch the tree was too strong as if it was pulling him to it like a magnet.

His fingertips touched the peeling bark, then his palm. He pressed it flat, the rough surface scratching his skin. He blinked and the world went dark.

…

The world was a blur and it was like floating under the surface of water. Merlin realized he was looking down at water. Once the surface stopped shuddering, he could see his own reflection. He looked haggard and worn, his eyes hollow. A voice from behind startled him, and he jumped, wheeling around.

"Why did you toss it in there again?" Arthur stood there questioning Merlin.

"Sorry, what?" Merlin was confused. Arthur wasn't in the caves. Come to think of it, neither was he anymore. He looked around him, his confusion increasing. He turned and looked out at the lake. "We're at Avalon," he stated.

"Uh, yeah, it's where you said you dropped the sword," Arthur told him.

"The sword? You mean Excalibur?" Merlin turned back to the king. Only Arthur looked younger, more like a prince. He didn't wear his usual armor either. He was dressed in plain clothes and a brown cloak.

"I haven't got time for games, Merlin. If we're going to stage an invasion we need to do it now. My father gains power and followers every day." Arthur looked off into the distance toward where Camelot lay.

Merlin just blinked at him. Arthur sighed. "Why do you look so confounded?" he asked.

"I just…just a memory blip," Merlin said. "I'm sorry, but can you clarify everything you just said?"

Arthur sighed. "Maybe Morgana has the patience to explain it to you, because I don't." He turned away and Merlin saw another familiar face. Morgana stood holding the reins to their horses. She looked younger too, less tormented, more innocent. She smiled at Merlin, and he saw no hint of hatred there. He walked toward her, and she rolled her eyes toward Arthur.

"He's just impatient and conflicted," she said.

"This is going to sound crazy, but I have no idea what year it is or what's happening," Merlin said. "I just…it's like I just arrived here."

Morgana looked at him with concern, but didn't question him. "Uther has declared war on magic," she told him. "Again. Arthur stood up to him though. After you told him you had magic–"

"I told him I had magic?" Merlin asked.

"You really have forgotten. Yes, well, you saved his life and it would have been impossible to deny. Unfortunately Uther saw too. A lot of people did. A lot of people feared you while others were thankful for what you did. Uther tried to have you executed, but Arthur intervened. Camelot was split down the middle. Sympathizers and persecutors. Uther's been hunting down those with magic, mercilessly executing them. We've got a lot of supporters – enough to try to take Camelot."

"Where's Ryll?" Merlin looked around for her. She'd be here. He knew she would be a sympathizer.

When Morgana didn't answer, he turned back to look at her. The tears in her eyes made his heart stop. "You really don't remember?" Her voice was soft, hardly even a whisper.

"Where is she?" He didn't want to hear her answer. He wanted to go back to the caves and pull his hand away from the trunk of the tree. None of this was real. Right? It felt real though, especially when Morgana spoke again.

"She was the first to defend you," she told Merlin gently. "She stopped Uther from killing you, but…she didn't make it."

"He killed her?" He choked the words out. He needed to hear it.

Morgana nodded wordlessly. "I'm so sorry, Merlin. That was what drove Arthur over the line. That was months ago now."

 _Months_. "I have no memory of that," Merlin told her. "If I can't remember then it means it isn't real. Right?" His voice lacked conviction.

"People can block bad memories," Morgana told him. "You could have used magic to forget."

"I would never forget. I would never let myself." This was a vision. It had to be. He remembered touching the tree, feeling its magic, and then…then this. Why would the tree show him this though? This wasn't the past. This wasn't the future. What was this nightmare? Was Ryll to always end up dying for him? How was that fair? It was cruel. This vision was _cruel_. He began to hate the tree, hate its magic even if his own came from it. He pinched his leg but he wouldn't wake up. Morgana gazed at him in concern.

"Are you going to be all right?" she asked.

"Once I wake up, I will be," he said.

"This isn't a nightmare. I wish it were. I really do. Miss her too."

Merlin turned away from her sympathy. This wasn't the first time he'd lost her. It was different for him.

"We need to find the sword and move out," Arthur said. His eyes were soft, but his tone urgent.

Merlin turned to face the waters of Avalon. " _Swilte Excalibur!_ " he shouted, holding out a hand. The water stayed placid for a moment and then trembled as the legendary sword flew out and into Merlin's outstretched hand. Cold water dripped down his hand. He turned and held out the sword to Arthur.

Arthur took it with reverence. "Tonight we take Camelot," he said. "Tonight we avenge Ryll." He put a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "Tonight, my friend, we change the future."

…

"Merlin! Merlin!" Ryll was shaking Merlin's shoulder, trying to get him to wake from the trance he'd fallen under as soon as his hand had touched the magical tree. "He won't wake!" she said, turning to Byron.

"I can't hold this spell much longer," he said. The water was starting to slosh against its constraints. Ryll climbed up the roots next to Merlin.

"Let it go," she told Byron when he was safely on dry ground. He released the lake and it flooded back into place, trapping them with the tree. She turned to face it and found that it looked monstrous up close with its peeling bark and dying leaves. Red oozed from some branches. It looked diseased. One of the pink petals drifted down to Ryll's shoulder, turning to ash when it hit her. She brushed it off, turning back to Merlin.

"Please wake up," she said, taking his arm and trying to pull it from the bark of the tree. His hand wouldn't budge though as if it were glued to the tree. Merlin's eyes were wide open and she could see something reflected there. "I don't like this place," she told Byron. "Why are we here?"

"I think it wants to show us something," Byron said. "I can hear its whispers."

"Don't touch it," Ryll hissed, snatching Byron's hand.

"I wasn't going to," he assured her, squeezing her hand. "But I think you should."

"What? Why?" Ryll shrunk away from the tree. "I think it wants to harm us."

"It doesn't want to harm us. It wants our help and–" He paused as if listening. "It wants to help you get your magic back."

"But how?" Magic was dying. What if it didn't have enough to give her? She didn't feel worthy of such a gift.

"You need to trust it," Byron told her, gently pulling her closer. "I know you're afraid but I can hear it. It speaks to my elemental magic."

"What is it showing Merlin?"

"A test," Byron said after a pause. "Morgana too. There's a test first, a trial to see if you're pure of heart."

"Are you going to touch it too?" Ryll asked, feeling like a child.

Byron was shaking his head. "I'm not one of the chosen ones," he told her. "You, Merlin, and Morgana are. It's chosen you. I'm just a messenger. I know you're scared, but I'll be right here. I won't let anything happen to you."

Ryll nodded, turning toward the tree. There was nothing to be afraid of. Byron gave her a reassuring smile and Ryll reached out one trembling hand, the other still gripping his, and touched the tree. Her spine went stiff and her eyes clouded as another image reeled in her vision. She woke up in agony.


	31. Control

**-Thirty-One -**

 **Control**

Lancelot swung his sword at Arthur's head, but the king brought his own sword up to block the blow. His blue eyes were wide, pleading. "Please, Lancelot," he said. "This isn't you. You have to fight her."

Lancelot was trying but Nimueh's magic was too strong. He swung again. Arthur blocked this blow as well but did not fight back. He would only defend himself as Lancelot beat him back.

"What if I come willingly?" Arthur shouted at Nimueh above the clanking of swords. "I promise not to fight, and you spare Lancelot and my father."

Nimueh seemed to consider this. Lancelot stopped fighting Arthur abruptly, his sword paused in the air mid-strike. "But you _will_ try to stop me eventually."

"I'll try, but right now I'll come with you."

"Very well." Nimueh tugged on Lancelot and he tripped backwards. He sheathed the sword, but he could still not move of his own accord. "Get your father in the car. Lancelot, you're driving. And Arthur, leave your sword." Arthur obediently dropped his sword and Nimueh moved to pick it up.

Arthur turned to pull Uther to his feet. The old king looked frightened, and Lancelot saw the care Arthur put into helping him into the car. Nimueh got into the passenger side while Lancelot got behind the wheel, undoing his belt so that his sword would not hinder him. Nimueh took that too. She pressed her nails against the GPS system and their destination lit up on the screen.

"Morgana has succeeded in opening the caves," she said. "Now we go to her."

"She won't join you," Lancelot said. His tongue was still free, and he took the chance to use it against Nimueh. "She doesn't want to be like you."

"She'll realize that I'm only doing this to preserve our people. Someone has to do it."

"Is Morgause in on this too?" he asked.

"Morgause has grown soft. All she wants is her sister back. She has lost all ambition to achieve the goals of our people," Nimueh said bitterly.

"Or she's just realized what she did before was wrong."

Nimueh laughed softly. "Always so noble." She reached a hand forward and touched her fingers to Lancelot's chin. He didn't take his eyes off the road. "It will be the death of you. Again."

Lancelot clenched his jaw but did not speak. Let Nimueh think she had won. She was a long way from victory still. Lancelot would fight her every step of the way whether he was under her control or not.

Nimueh sighed. "That's the problem with you, with all of you. You're so noble that you don't know when to make sacrifices. You'd sacrifice yourself to save your kingdom but would you sacrifice your enemies to save your people?"

"It's not the same," Arthur said from the backseat. "We're talking…"

"Billions," Lancelot volunteered.

" _Billions_ of lives just to save a few. In Camelot we worked so hard to see that those with magic and those without lived peacefully together. It did take time but it happened. You just didn't live to see it."

"That was then. You've just woken up. You don't know what this world is like, how cruel it can be."

"I've seen cruelty," Arthur told her. "Perhaps not in this lifetime, but I know what it is to fear something and to persecute people for it. The solution isn't killing the people whose views don't align with yours. You don't have the right to make that kind of decision."

"Do you know how the last dragon died?" Nimueh asked. "She was shot down by people who feared her. She died the last of her kind and now there are none left. I can't let that happen again."

"What about White Castle and Ealdor?" Lancelot asked. "Aren't they a safe haven for people with magic?"

"You think the people want to live confined to the boundaries of their tiny cities? You think outsiders won't invade them? Find us out?" She shook her head. "You're naïve. You don't understand so stop telling me I'm wrong."

"You're right," Arthur told her. "I don't understand. I haven't had to live with that fear. But I don't want to see people with magic die either. We're not fighting for a different cause, just fighting differently. I won't let anyone die."

"But you're not a king here," Nimueh reminded him. "You're just an ordinary boy who doesn't fit in. No one will listen to you."

"Maybe not but that doesn't mean I stop trying. It doesn't mean I give up."

"You will. In the end when your friends start to die. You'll see that I was right all along, that there is no place for us here unless we make one for ourselves."

Arthur was silent in the backseat, but Lancelot could see the frustration written on his face in the rearview mirror. Lancelot felt equally frustrated. He kept driving though, unable to do anything else under Nimueh's control. He felt a constant pressure on his brain and wished he could shove it away. He hoped that the Knights of the Roundtable were aware of what was happening. He had no way of contacting them and Nimueh probably knew all about them if she'd been inside Lancelot's head.

He hated the very idea of that. He didn't even know what had been him and what had been her in the last few days. His thoughts flitted to Morgana. They'd earned each other's trust in the last few days. Had that been real or had that just been part of Nimueh's plan? What about the feelings that had been stirring inside of him ever since he'd started spending time with her? Had those been a lie? What reason would Nimueh have for making him feel something for Morgana? He hadn't even realized he'd felt anything until they'd had to part ways. It had been so long since he'd felt something other than death and regret. He admired Morgana's passion, her determination to overcome the person she had become in her past life. He felt a strong desire to protect that passion. He couldn't imagine if it were ever snuffed out. He needed her strength because right now he felt weak. He needed a reason to keep fighting. For now all he could do was drive.

It felt repetitive and his muscles cramped in protest after being stuck in a car for so long. As the GPS guided them ever closer to the Crystal Caves, he started thinking of ways to overcome Nimueh's power over him. She'd lied to Morgana when Morgana had asked if Nimueh could break the magic holding Lancelot a slave. What she'd meant when she'd said she couldn't break it was that she _wouldn't_. What else had she said? ' _You cannot just break it like a chain. It's something you must overcome. How, I cannot say, but if you really do have good intentions of helping Morgana, then that's a start.'_

Had there been some truth in her words after all? Could he break the spell himself? His thoughts were cut short as the GPS beeped at him. They had reached their destination. He stopped the car abruptly to avoid the rubble strewn across the ground. The entrance to the caves leered out at them, a dark hole in the side of the rock face. There was something terrifying about the caves. Lancelot knew he didn't belong here. He didn't have magic like the others. At least Arthur was with him though he wished the king were far away from Nimueh. Uther had been silent the entire drive looking quite defeated. Lancelot felt a small stab of sympathy for him. Uther had locked himself away in a castle only to be manipulated by magic, tricked by Nimueh again. No wonder he had such a poor opinion of magic. Lancelot had been manipulated time and time again by magic, but he knew it wasn't magic itself but the people who used it that were either good or evil. Merlin used it for good; Nimueh chose to use it for evil. But it was also a matter of perspective. Nimueh was just trying to preserve her own kind. She had good intentions but killing everyone without magic wasn't the way to achieve this.

"Get out," Nimueh commanded. Lancelot cut the engine and Arthur got out of the backseat, helping his father. Nimueh moved toward the caves like a moth drawn to light. Lancelot's eyes fell to the swords sitting on the passenger side of the car. Arthur followed his gaze, but the next moment the car doors locked with a resounding click. Nimueh was looking at them. "Try anything and I drop him," she said, nodding to Uther. "At this point he's just extra weight."

Arthur tightened his grip on his father's arm but didn't speak. He and Lancelot exchanged a glance before following Nimueh into the cave's entrance. Despite not having magic of his own, Lancelot could sense the energy within the caves. It was a sort of static buzz that set his ears ringing. It was pitch dark inside the caves as they left the light of the world outside behind. Nimueh summoned up a light and led them on past tunnels and caverns. She seemed to know just where she was going. They went on for what seemed like hours with nothing but the sound of their own echoing footsteps and the drip, drip, dripping of water. Then there was another sound.

A scream split the air, and Lancelot and Arthur spun around, trying to find the source. "Never mind that," Nimueh said sharply.

"Who was that?" Ryll? Morgana? Someone was in danger. Lancelot took a step toward the right, where the sound had come from. Another tunnel branched off here, and he thought he could see a spot of light somewhere up ahead. Before he could take another step though, something tugged him back. He turned to see Nimueh looking at him.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked.

"Someone needs help." He heard another cry, and this time he recognized the voice. "It's Morgana. _Morgana_!" He shouted her name and it echoed around the caverns.

"Lancelot?" her answer came. She was just beyond, but Lancelot still couldn't move. "Please help me." The words were softer now, choked out.

"It's a trick," Nimueh said. "Come." She tugged on him again like a dog on a leash. He focused every bit of strength he had on the invisible chain that wouldn't let him move. He thought of Morgana, thought of her in danger, thought of her needing his help. He moved one foot. It was a battle of wills now, and his was stronger. He knew it even before the spell snapped in two. Lancelot looked back at Arthur who said, "Run," and took off running. The wall next to him exploded as Nimueh fought to get him back, but Lancelot was free. Nimueh no longer had power over him and he was going to save Morgana. Their pasts no longer mattered. It was the here and now, and he was in control. His thoughts were his own he realized suddenly. Nimueh was not in his head making him doubt himself. The protectiveness he'd felt toward Morgana was still there, the feelings that had taken him by surprise were there too. They were his own though, not some manipulation, not some illusion. He ran and ran until he found himself in a dead end lined with the legendary crystals. He kept his eyes averted knowing that they reflected the future. He looked around for Morgana, but the cavern was empty. There was nowhere else her voice could have been coming from.

"Morgana?" Only his own voice answered him in echoes.

Movement in the corner of his eyes caught his attention and he turned to find himself facing a particularly tall crystal. He didn't mean to look, but it was impossible not to. It was polished like a mirror but what he saw reflected was not the caves nor his own reflection. He was staring into a forest. Pinpricks of light wavered between the trees, and he realized they were torches. There were people streaming through the forest. Dogs ran at their heels. A dark figure was darting through the trees ahead of them like a fox fleeing a hunt. As the figure drew closer, Lancelot saw familiar dark hair framing a pale face. Morgana looked straight at him and opened her mouth to cry out for help. He couldn't hear her this time as if he was behind a thick plate of glass, only able to watch. She ran straight up to him, pressing her hands flat upon the surface of the stone. He reached out and placed his hands on hers but all he could feel was the cool stone of the crystal. He couldn't help her. He was useless. He searched around for something to break the crystal, settling on a chunk of stone. He motioned for Morgana to stand back and started beating the stone upon the crystal. It didn't so much as scratch it. Morgana's eyes widened as she looked behind her. The torchlight was getting closer.

"I'll get Merlin!" he told her. She seemed to understand or maybe she could hear him. She nodded. "I'll be back. I promise!" He turned and ran back the way he'd come, his heart pounding in his ears. Merlin would know what to do. Merlin would save her. The only problem was he had no idea where Merlin was. There was only one person who did. If giving up his own freedom meant that Morgana would be safe then there was no question of what he would do. Lancelot took a deep breath and went in search of Nimueh.


	32. Confessions

**-Thirty-Two -**

 **Confessions**

 _The Witch Finder approaches_ , the voice had said to Morgana. She watched out her window the following day as his clattering wagon came into view. The metal cage attached was a clear statement, and Morgana held her head a little higher. The Witch Finder no longer scared her like he used to. He just looked like a bitter old man who spent his life consumed by hatred. She almost pitied him. She waited because she knew exactly when to confess to Uther. She owed a lot of people for her past crimes and even if she had not yet committed them in this lifetime, she still sometimes felt them weighing on her, dragging her back down to a place she didn't want to go. The Witch Finder claimed he was cleansing the lands. Well, perhaps Morgana was cleansing herself. She didn't need to hear his sanctimonious speeches. She knew just what she'd done, how she'd gone wrong. Maybe she had already atoned for it, but a part of her knew she'd keep atoning until the day she died.

It was later when the Witch Finder had done his investigating and had made his conclusions that Morgana finally came down from her room. Uther and some of his council had gathered in the throne room. Arthur, Gwen, Ryll, Merlin, and Gaius were also present. Merlin looked anxious, and Morgana knew he had good reason to be. The Witch Finder turned to accuse Gaius just like he had before and Merlin jumped in to defend him just as he'd done before.

"It was me," he said. "I'm the sorcerer."

"It was neither of them." Morgana spoke clearly. Everyone turned to look at her, equal looks of surprise on their faces. Then fear on the faces of her friends. Ryll and Merlin knew what she was about to do.

"No," Merlin said softly.

Ryll went still but then gave Morgana the faintest of nods. She knew why she was doing this. It gave Morgana the confidence to continue. "It was neither of them," she repeated. "It was me."

There were gasps. Uther looked like he might fall to his knees. The Witch Finder looked surprised.

"Morgana, no," Merlin said. "Don't do this." His eyes held a desperation, and Morgana smiled at him. She was lucky to have a friend like him.

"I'm tired of hiding who I am," she said to him. "I've known for awhile now." Merlin narrowed his eyes in confusion, but Morgana didn't have time to explain. She turned to Uther.

"I don't believe it," he said. "Why are you defending this… _servant_?"

"Merlin is more than a servant; he's my friend," Morgana told the king. "I can prove it was me." She conjured up her magic and a horse made of smoke filled the air above them. It reared up and then vanished. Morgana kept eye contact with Uther so that he would see the amber glow in her eyes. "It was harmless," she said. "I would never hurt anyone."

"Morgana…" Uther seemed speechless. Arthur as well, standing with his mouth open.

"Ah ha! She has confessed!" the Witch Finder said triumphantly.

"Leave us," Uther growled.

"But Sire-" the Witch Finder protested.

"NOW!" Uther bellowed. The room cleared. Gwen, Ryll, and Merlin hesitated.

"I'll be okay," Morgana said to them.

"We're not leaving," Ryll said. She turned to Uther. "Morgana has never hurt anyone. She has a kind heart. You cannot judge her based on your poor opinion of magic."

"I want to speak to my ward alone," Uther said. His tone was softer now, and Morgana could hear the pain in it.

"We'll be right outside," Merlin said. He took Ryll's arm and gently led her away. Gwen threw Morgana a worried look before following. Arthur stayed, but Morgana was glad he was there. The hurt in his eyes was undeniable, and Morgana toughened herself to it.

"Morgana, how is this true?" Uther asked. He didn't believe her. His mind was rejecting the truth even though she'd shown him her magic.

"My mother had magic," she told him.

"Vivienne… I never knew…"

"How long have you known?" Arthur asked her.

"I started having dreams that came true," Morgana told him. "Actually I've had them since I was a child. I just didn't realize what they were. Recently my magic started acting up. The fire…"

"You know the laws," Uther said. "You used magic in front of the counsel, the Witch Finder…"

"Because I'm trusting you to make the right decision. I'm your ward. I'm like your daughter." He flinched at the word. "I've never hurt anyone with my magic. I didn't ask to be born this way. Now I'm asking you to make a decision. You can punish me, put me to death like you have to others before me, or you can treat me like family and accept me for who I am." Her words hung in the air. She knew what she was asking him.

"It's not that easy," Uther said. "You revealed yourself in front of people. In front of the Witch Finder. You could have just spoken to me alone. Why did you do that?"

"Because I don't want to be hidden away. I don't want to be swept under the rug. I'm asking you to make a decision. Will you learn to accept me the way I am or will you persecute me like a common criminal?"

"Father, we can't let the Witch Finder hurt her," Arthur appealed to his father. "Morgana has never done anything to harm us or anyone."

"Even if I accepted her, other people won't," Uther said. "They'll come for her."

"You're the king," Arthur told him. "Stop them."

Uther pressed his fingers to his head. "We have to fix this. We can tell them it was a trick. A trick of the light…"

"You're not going to explain it away," Morgana said. "I don't want it to be covered up. I want things to change. Magic isn't evil itself. It's people who have the potential for good and evil. Do you think I have the potential for _good_ or for _evil_? How many more people have to die for your myopic beliefs?"

"Magic has hurt this family," Uther said. "Magic killed my wife. You would have me forgive those who have hurt this kingdom and would do it again?"

"I would have you open your eyes and see the difference between those who mean harm and those who do not. I would have you put aside your blindness to magic and realize that not all who have magic want to hurt others. I didn't ask to be born this way and nor did they. Can you imagine how they must live in fear? Can you admit that innocent lives have been taken all because of a prejudice? I'm sorry about Ygraine. I am. I lost my mother and my father. I understand loss. You haven't moved on though. It's time to let go."

Uther raised his eyes to hers. They were watery, but she couldn't read the emotion in them. "Word will spread. The people will rise up against us. I must take action."

Morgana met his gaze, but he looked away first. "Guards." The command was strong.

"Father no!" Arthur said. The guards entered the room, and Morgana could hear Ryll and Merlin asking what was going on. "You can't do this!" Arthur protested. Morgana did not try to fight. She stood watching Uther.

"I'm disappointed," Morgana said softly. "I was naïve to think you could change."

"I won't let anyone harm you," Uther told her. "I just need to get things in control. When this blows over-"

"It's not going to blow over," she said stiffly as the guards took her arms tightly in their grasp. "If you do this then you cannot go back."

"I will speak with the Witch Finder," Uther told her. "He will not harm you. Take her to her room," he told the guards. "Stand guard outside. She is not to leave. Her maid may tend her, but no other visitors are allowed."

Morgana didn't struggle as she was pulled from the room. She heard Arthur arguing with his father behind her. Merlin, Ryll, and Gwen watched her pass with open mouths. "We have to help her," Ryll hissed to Merlin.

"We will," he said back before Morgana was pulled away from them. She was shut in her room. The curtains had been replaced and there was no evidence of a fire. Morgana sat down on her bed. Her heart was pounding out of control. Whatever calmness she'd shown on the outside, she didn't feel it on the inside. She was trembling, she realized. She clasped her hands together. This wasn't real, she kept telling herself. It was some sort of vision. It felt real though. The fear and the hurt and the pounding of her heart in her head. Perhaps she'd acted boldly because she thought this was a vision but what if it wasn't? What if she was stuck with whatever outcome her actions caused?

 _I stood up to him_ , she told herself. _I told him the truth and he didn't accept me. But he also didn't throw me in the dungeons or sentence me to death._ She wasn't sure if what she felt was relief or disappointment. Both maybe. At least she didn't feel trapped anymore. Her secret was out, and she didn't have to sit and wonder what Uther would do if she told him the truth. It was as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

Gwen came in a few minutes later to see if Morgana needed anything. "Ryll and Merlin and Arthur are petitioning Uther, but he sent them away. I don't think he knows what to do. He does care about you, Morgana. But he thinks he'll be seen as weak if he pardons you."

"I don't want to be pardoned. I haven't done anything wrong. I want him to rethink his hatred of magic. I know it's asking for the impossible, but it's time. Too many people have died."

"Just hang in there," Gwen said. "He's sent away the Witch Finder. He had the guards escort him out of the city. He said he needs to deal with this himself."

"I'm okay, Gwen. I'm not regretting anything."

Gwen was quiet for a moment, biting her lip. "You didn't really cast that smoke horse – the first one – did you."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you cut off Merlin just as he was confessing."

"He was protecting Gaius who was wrongly accused," Morgana said carefully. Merlin's secret was his own, but if Gwen guessed it… The girl was quick and observant.

"You aren't careless," Gwen said. "You know to be careful."

"Neither he nor Gaius deserve to be punished," Morgana said. "Not for any reason."

"Is there anything you need?" Gwen asked, dropping the subject.

"No, thank you. I'm just going to try to sleep. Let Uther think everything through. Maybe in the morning he'll have some clarity."

"I hope so," Gwen said. She squeezed Morgana's hand before leaving the room. Morgana lay down on the bed, not bothering to change out of her dress. She must have fallen asleep because the next thing she knew she was being shaken awake.

Merlin and Ryll were both there, and Ryll called her name out urgently. "They're coming for you," she said. Her eyes were wide with fear.

"Who's coming?" Morgana asked, suddenly wide-awake.

"The people. The Witch Finder. He gathered them. The guards tried to stop them but they were overwhelmed."

"Uther sent us."

"What?"

"Uther sent us to get you out," Merlin repeated. "Come on. We have to go _now_."

Morgana followed them out of her room and down the hall. The guards had abandoned their post and they were alone in the corridor. They hurried on until they reached the throne room. Merlin pushed the doors open and Morgana found herself facing Uther. He looked as if he hadn't even gone to bed. He was still fully dressed though looking weary. He turned to look at her.

"Morgana. I'm sorry. I didn't expect they'd come in such numbers… I sent the guards and the knights to keep them at bay, but they're breaking through."

"I need to leave the castle. I can draw them away."

"You need to leave, but you're going in secret," Uther told her. "I'll deal with them."

"Why are you doing this?" she asked.

"Because even though you have magic, you are like a daughter to me…" He paused as if he wanted to say more, but now wasn't the time. _Because you_ are _my daughter_ , he wanted to say. Morgana already knew that. "You are a good person and your magic does not make you evil."

"Does that mean you'll consider changing the laws?" Morgana asked.

"It takes a long time to change laws that have been laid down for so long. You see what the people are doing now. They aren't ready for that."

"Excuses," Morgana told him. "You're the king."

"Please forgive me," Uther said. "I've made many mistakes and I've taken innocent lives… I don't want to see you hurt though. I need you to be all right."

"I forgive you," Morgana said. It was a simple statement but she found she meant it. She didn't want to hold a grudge anymore.

"Now you must go." Uther blinked away his emotions but she could tell he hadn't been expecting her forgiveness.

"Come on. I know a way out of the city," Merlin said, taking her elbow. Morgana let him lead her away, following him and Ryll through a series of tunnels. They were dank and the air was close, but soon she could feel fresh air and saw the forest up ahead. Merlin opened the bars blocking the end of the tunnel with a set of keys.

"I'm coming with you," Ryll said.

"No. You need to stay in the castle. Both of you. Arthur needs you, Merlin, and the kingdom needs you, Ryll."

"Please be safe," Ryll said after a long moment. She pulled Morgana into a hug. "I want to come with you."

"I know. I don't know what the future holds, but we'll see each other again. That much I know is true." She gave them both a smile before disappearing into the darkness. The forest swallowed her whole. She started walking away from the kingdom, no destination in mind. She had no idea where to go. She wanted to find a way out of this vision. She didn't know why she was here anymore. What had the caves wanted to show her? She knew the truth now of what would happen if she told Uther of her magic. She could have told him in a dozen ways but she'd told him in the way that would test him most. He could not deny it with witnesses. He had to act. She'd forced his hand, and in the end he hadn't wanted her death but her safety.

She walked for hours in the dark forest, alone with her thoughts. Then the raucous sound of distant shouting split the silence of the night. They knew she'd escaped the castle. They were coming after her. She started to run.

She saw torchlights in the distance, bobbing like wraiths. They were gaining on her. She'd spent all that time dawdling when she should have been running. She'd begun this vision in the forest. Could she find the crystal again? She turned left, winding her way through the woods she had grown up in. She found familiar landmarks and trees and then the glint of the crystal caught her eye. _Help me!_ she thought frantically as if the crystal could read her mind. As she drew closer she saw someone standing behind the crystal. Her eyes widened at the sight of Lancelot. Was it another illusion? She heard him call out her name. She came forward and laid her hands on the surface of the crystal, but it was solid. He pressed his hands against hers, but she could not feel him. He looked around the cave and motioned for her to step back as he grabbed a large rock. He pounded it against the surface of the crystal, but it didn't even crack.

"I'll get Merlin!" he shouted to her though his voice was muffled. She nodded and he turned and ran. The lights were getting closer. She could either run or she could stand and fight. She was tired of running, tired of hiding. But could she fight them alone? Summoning her magic, Morgana called upon the only person who might be able to help her. _Mother!_ she called. _Help me._

She could hear shouting now. They had spotted her. The lights bobbed closer, blinding in the darkness. She felt like a deer caught in headlights. She had nowhere to run now. Just before the hunters reached her, something appeared in front of her. There was a fierce wind and the torches spluttered out leaving them in darkness.

Morgana felt a hand on her shoulder. "I'm here," her mother said. "I'll protect you."


	33. Revenge

**-Thirty-Three -**

 **Revenge**

Ryll woke up to stabbing pain. She was lying on a cement floor, flat on her back. There was laughter all around her. She pushed herself up on her elbows and found herself within a giant cage. People leered at her from all sides, shouting and jeering. A hefty man stood in front of her, hands flexing on the handle of an axe. Without hesitation, he swung it straight at her head. Ryll rolled to the side just in time. The axe hit the ground where her head had been, sending up sparks. Ryll leapt to her feet and found a fallen sword a few feet away. She lunged for it, bringing it up just in time to block another blow. Her arm vibrated with the force of it. Her thoughts were garbled as her mind tried to catch up to what was happening. She was clearly no longer in the caves. As the man swung his axe again, Ryll realized with a jolt where exactly she was.

Hengist's castle.

Her memories overwhelmed her for a moment and she felt a hot, searing pain in her arm. The axe had nicked her. Ryll felt her anger rise up. She didn't know how she'd gotten here, but it was the one place she had _never_ wanted to return to. With an angry cry, she flung herself at the man. The onslaught that followed left him weaponless and staggering. Finally, with one finally blow to the face with the hilt of her sword, the man collapsed to the ground, unconscious. Cheers went up all around, and Ryll turned to find Hengist himself watching her. His smug expression sent chills down her spine, and she felt like worms were writhing in her stomach. Hengist motioned for his men to open the doors of the cage. Ryll backed away. She didn't want to get any nearer to Hengist, but she couldn't very well stay in the cage. She took a hesitant step forward and then another, gripping her sword hard. Hengist grinned at her, toothy and greedy.

"There's my little assassin," he said, grabbing her arm and pulling her away from the crowd. "You never disappoint." His pockets jangled with coins won from bets, she supposed.

She kept thinking that this had to be a nightmare. Why else would she be reliving her worst memories? This was a part of her life she'd buried deep and had never dug up again. Ryll had kept these memories tucked deep inside of her, and Merlin had never asked her to relive them. It shouldn't have surprised her, really, that this would be her test. It was a time when she'd been desperate and alone. Hengist had exploited her, used her, made her feel weak. She was not that same girl though. Not anymore.

It was all Ryll could do not to stab Hengist right then and there with the sword. She mastered herself however. There would be little hope of escape in such a crowded room. Better to try to understand why she was there before doing anything rash. The last thing she remembered was reaching out to touch the tree. She imagined she was standing prone back in the caves, in a trance just like Merlin. Byron had said the tree wanted to test them to see if they were pure of heart. Ryll wasn't sure what exactly it meant to be pure of heart but she didn't think stabbing Hengist was a good way to begin her test. Instead she let Hengist lead her from the room into the courtyard outside. The air was cool and breezy, and Ryll thought it might be nearing fall. Had she travelled back in time? She felt younger. Something cold and familiar hung around her neck and she reached a hand up to grasp her mother's ring. She let out a gasp. If she still had her mother's ring then that meant she hadn't defeated the wraith yet. She hadn't been to Camelot. Hadn't met Merlin.

"That was well played," Hengist told her. He seemed unaware that she was feeling any sort of distress. She schooled her face into what she hoped was a placid expression.

"I know how to beat the so called men you send in to challenge me," she told him. "But I am also not here for your amusement."

"Aren't you?" His tone was cool and dangerous. But this wasn't real, and Ryll didn't care. She was not about to let him walk all over her again.

"I'm here because I have nowhere else to be." She now knew she had Camelot, but she wouldn't find herself there for another few years. "I might have a debt to repay you but you don't own me. Nobody does."

"I have a job for you," Hengist continued, ignoring her indignation. "There's a man who owes me money. Lives south of here about twenty miles. Name's Rabada Wilson. You know the drill: money or-" He made a slicing motion across his neck. Ryll looked away. "No time to get squeamish, girl." He grabbed her arm. "I expect my payment." He let go and she took a step back, disgusted by his touch.

She could run away now, flee _somewhere_. But where would she go? She knew Hengist would hunt her if she didn't come back. Something had always brought her back, but now she didn't have that longing to belong. She knew where she belonged and it was not at Hengist's side as his personal bully. But she wouldn't have been brought back here for no reason, so what was the reason?

She searched the stables for Owl, but the mare wasn't there yet. Hengist hadn't stolen her yet. Feeling a stab of remorse, Ryll picked out a black gelding and saddled him. She knew exactly where she was going. The village was small and poor and Rabada Wilson had made the mistake of losing a bet to Hengist. Before, Ryll had convinced herself that this man needed to pay up. If she'd returned without payment, then Hengist took out his anger on her. The man had paid her, but it had been everything his family and neighbors had. They'd gone hungry that winter and their children had died. It was a burden Ryll had lived with. Hengist made sure of that. This time she was going to do it differently. She patted her pocket where a bulging bag lay. She did have Hengist to thank for her quick fingers. She smiled, thinking of the look on his face when he realized his winnings for the day were gone.

The village looked just as poor and sad as she remembered it. She wore Hengist's sigil on her cloak, and the people looked up at her in fear. Her reputation preceded her even if they didn't know exactly who she was. "Where is Rabada Wilson?" she questioned, her voice ringing out across the village square.

"I'm here." The people parted as the man walked forward. His wife clutched at his arm, but he gently pried her fingers away and walked to stand in front of Ryll. "I owe a debt, but I cannot pay," he said. "I cannot feed my family as it is. I ask you for mercy."

"Hengist does not show mercy," she told him. He bowed his head and his wife began to cry. "I am not Hengist," Ryll continued. Rabada's eyes flitted up to her again. She tossed him the bag of gold. "Keep it," she said. "Feed your family and your village. Consider your debt to Hengist paid."

"But…won't he come after us? Come after you?" Rabada questioned.

"No. I'm going after _him_ ," Ryll told him. She turned her horse and kicked him into a gallop. There was one more place she needed to go before she returned to Hengist's castle.

Ealdor lay across the border of Camelot. It was a tiny village and though Ryll had only visited it a few times, it spoke of home and comfort. She stopped the horse at the edge of the village, sitting amongst the trees to watch the comings and goings of the villagers. No one took any notice of her, and she made no move to go into the village. Her eyes fell on a familiar house, and she watched as the door opened and a boy with unruly black hair stepped out into the sunlight. He was dressed as usual, scarf tied around his neck, loose boots a little ungainly on his feet. He looked up at the sky with a smile and started across the village. He was happy and oblivious to what the future held. He had no destiny looming over him yet. She missed that Merlin. The Merlin of the future was tired. He'd seen too much and lived too long to ever gain this carefree innocence back. Ryll's vision blurred for a moment. How she wished she could turn back time. She wanted to go back to Camelot. Maybe it hadn't yet sunk in that she could never go back, that this was as close as she could get, because she started to sob. She turned the horse and galloped away from the village so no one could hear her crying. After a time the horse slowed, and she sobbed into its neck, mourning her losses, mourning her death, mourning her future. It would never go back to the way it was. They were all changed and despite being reunited, she wasn't sure she knew how to be happy anymore. She felt her emotions welling up inside of her like an unruly storm. Her hands went instinctually to her necklace. The moment her hand clamped over it, she felt a shock go through her body. Her hand jolted and the chain broke. She stared down at the ring and something tugged at the back of her mind. _Don't take it off!_ A shadow loomed up before them, and her horse bolted, crying out in fear. Ryll hardly managed to stay on its back. Darkness crept across her eyes, and she faded from the world.

When Ryll awoke again she was lying in the courtyard of Hengist's castle. The black horse was chomping bits of hay on the ground a few feet away. Ryll's back hurt, and she realized she must have fallen off the horse. It was a miracle she'd stayed on as long as she had. She clutched at her head as she sat up. Pain lanced through it, and she wasn't sure if it was from the fall or something else. The ring was still clutched in her hand, and it felt lighter than it had before. Before she had the chance to think further, a shout came from across the courtyard.

"Why are you sitting there, girl?" Hengist shouted. "You should have been back hours ago." Ryll got to her feet, feeling unsteady and dizzy. She tried to focus as Hengist came up to her, getting in her face. "Where's my money?" he demanded.

Ryll shook her head to clear it. "I don't have it," she told him. "I didn't take the man's money."

Hengist gritted his teeth. "Then you'll take a lashing for every bit of gold he owed me."

"I don't think so." Something was stirring in her. It was ugly and raw and angry and hateful. She let it rise up into her throat until she felt like screaming. Hengist's face crumpled in anger.

"Now listen here. I _own_ you! You owe me everything, girl, and you will pay for what you've done and what you've said."

"I'm not the one who needs to pay up," she said calmly. She wasn't sure where the calm was coming from. It was almost like watching herself from a distance. She didn't feel in control anymore.

"You insolent…" Hengist raised a hand to slap her and Ryll snapped. She grabbed his wrist and tugged hard. Hengist let out a howl of pain as his wrist snapped. "You little bitch!" he shouted at her. Ryll kicked him hard and he went down on his back. She stepped a booted foot on his broken wrist, and he screamed in pain.

"You owe a lot of debts, Hengist," Ryll said. The voice didn't sound like hers anymore. It was like her body was acting of its own accord, and she could do nothing to stop it. Her thoughts went to the ring. To the demon inside of it, the wraith. A fear went through her head. What if she had somehow released the wraith? What if it was somehow commanding her body now? She had been weakened and angry and all her thoughts of revenge against Hengist had opened up the perfect doorway to the wraith. She tried to fight, but she heard a deep laugh come out of her mouth. "You cannot control me," the voice said. It was said toward Hengist, but Ryll knew it was meant for her.

 _Get out of me!_ she screamed. She felt the wraith inside of her now. The hatred and pain and power. It was dark and cruel, but something in it called to her. _Don't you want revenge?_ it asked her. _Don't you want him to pay for what he did to you and to everyone else who was in his debt?_

 _Yes._ The answer was there before she could take it back. Yes that was what she wanted, but that wasn't who she was.

 _But you have nothing left._ This time it wasn't the wraith speaking. It was her. _I want to go home but where is home?_

 _Finish it_ , the wraith told her. She drew her sword.

"No, please!" Hengist pleaded with her, eyes wide with fear. "What do you want? Gold? Freedom? Take a horse and go! I don't want to see you again. You're too much trouble!"

 _He's a coward_ , the wraith told her.

"This isn't who I am," Ryll said. She took a step back. "Begone!" she shouted at the wraith, thrusting every bit of her will into forcing him out of her. Something like a shadow released itself from her body and was suddenly whole before her. She dropped to her knees feeling suddenly weak.

"Very well," the wraith spoke, and Ryll suppressed a shiver. It grabbed Hengist by the neck.

"No!" Ryll screamed, but it was too late. It was as if the wraith were sucking the very life out of the man. Hengist shuddered and then was still. "You didn't have to do that."

"I can reverse it all," the wraith told her. "I can get your life back. Isn't that what you want? For things to be as they were before? I can give you that."

"You lie." Ryll wasn't about to trust something evil like the wraith.

"I don't," it said. "You set me free. I owe you a debt. I can turn back time and make it so that you never died. You can marry your love and live out your life in Camelot. You can be happy."

Happy. Wasn't that all she wanted? The chance at happiness? She thought of Merlin and all the troubles on his shoulders, the haunted look in his eyes. Could she really reverse all that, make it so that she never died? What was the purpose in dying anyway? So that they could come back for what? As far as she could tell, none of them belonged in this new world. There was no place for them there. It was cruel to dangle life in front of them when it wasn't the life they wanted.

"What must I do?" Ryll asked the wraith.

It gave her what might have been a smile. "I was hoping you'd ask."


	34. Siege

**Author's Note:** I was sucked into the void that is work. It hasn't really let me go, but I found some time to write. I miraculously only work one job for the next three days and then have a day off. It's shocking. Then it's back to the good old five days in a row of two jobs!

Anyway. Here are two new chapters tonight.

* * *

 **-Thirty-Four -**

 **Siege**

Camelot shone brightly in the light of the perfectly full moon. Merlin felt his chest tighten at the sight of his former home. He hadn't realized how much he had missed it. He'd made the choice to leave it so many hundreds of years before when everyone he knew was gone and there was nothing left for him. But now returning to it was like an ache in his heart. It wasn't the same Camelot though. Not by a long shot. Ryll wasn't here in this version and nothing was the same as he remembered.

Arthur had gathered his troops throughout the day, a variety of nonmagic and magic people. It was strange seeing them gathered together for a common cause. It might have made him happy once but all he felt was a dull pain. Arthur was taking charge and the people listened to him. Morgana was at his side, and Merlin had never seen her look stronger or more sure of herself. A group of druids had joined them, and Merlin wasn't surprised to see Byron there. He gave Merlin a curt nod. Gwen was there at Morgana's side, dressed for battle. Merlin felt a pang. It had been so long since he'd seen his friend. She smiled at him. Gaius, he had learned, was locked in the dungeons at the castle. He hadn't escaped in time and it was part of their plan to rescue him.

The tension in the air was palpable, and Merlin didn't feel any confidence. He'd been dropped into this mess with no warning and his head was still reeling from Morgana's news. He knew he needed to focus, but his head was dizzy and he couldn't clear his thoughts. Arthur seemed unaware of Merlin's distraction. He started giving instructions to his men, and they all turned their faces to him with reverence. Arthur looked more a king than a prince.

"Uther will have guards out looking for any intruders. The gates are heavily guarded day and night, but there are other ways into the castle." He turned to look at Merlin. "Merlin here is an expert at those."

Merlin blinked. "Me?"

Arthur rolled his eyes and motioned for Merlin to come join him. "He's being modest. He snuck out of the castle more times than I'd like to remember when he was still in my service."

"Have they discovered the entrance through the caves?" Merlin asked.

"Not that our scouts have told us."

"Then that's your best bet. It leads straight up into the castle and you can sneak a lot of men in without Uther or his men being any the wiser."

"You heard him, men. Guards will be watching from the parapets, so we're going to stage a distraction in the other direction. Morgana will be leading the diversion group." He nodded to his sister. "Once we're in, we'll send one group to the gates to help secure them and let Morgana's group in. The second group will head straight to my father. Once he's captured, the city is ours. Now listen carefully to this next part. We aren't going in there to kill these men. Most of them serve my father out of fear or have his same beliefs that all magic is evil. It's ignorance that fuels their hatred. They don't deserve to die for it." There was some grumbling from his men, but no one argued. "Kill only if necessary. Take as many captive as you can. We want to show them that we are better than what they think of us. We want to show them that magic is not evil."

"And what of the king?" one of the men shouted. "What of Uther?"

"He should face the same punishments as our people!"

"He will face judgment, but killing him would be sinking to his level. This isn't about getting revenge, it's about getting justice."

"He murdered my family!" the angry man shouted. "Where's the justice for them?"

"After today, things will be different," Arthur told them. "I can promise that no harm will come to your families. Uther will never hurt anyone again. Are you with me?"

There was still some grumbling, but then a chorus of ayes rose up. "Aye," said the angry man, and the argument was settled.

Merlin did not join them, however. Morgana's words from earlier were playing through his head on a loop. _She stopped Uther from killing you, but…she didn't make it. Didn't make it. Didn't make it._

Ryll was dead, and if this vision was somehow real then Uther had destroyed any chance Merlin had at spending a lifetime with Ryll. He'd been cheated once and now he'd been cheated again. He felt eyes on him and turned to see Morgana watching him as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. He turned away. The truth was, if Merlin was the one to find Uther, he wasn't sure exactly what he'd do.

…

The gate to the tunnels lay ahead. Merlin could see guards striding along the parapet high above. He'd need to break down the gates in order to get in, so they had to wait for Morgana's diversion to begin. Byron and some of the other druids had gone with her as well as Gwen. When the diversion started, it was impossible to miss. A bright light flared up near the front gates, searing the night and shooting up sparks. The guards turned toward it and then started running. Merlin took his cue and blew the gates as the sounds of the diversion split the night.

"Go, go, go!" Arthur urged the people and they streamed into the caves, Arthur at their head. Merlin followed at the back.

It was familiar and haunting walking through the tunnels and then up into the caves. Their footsteps echoed in the cavern where the Great Dragon had once resided. Merlin wondered if Kilgharrah was still there or if he'd escaped. The flickering torchlights did not lend much light in the gaping darkness of the cavern, but suddenly the flames danced over something large. Merlin sent out a light. He drew back in horror. Dragon bones. That was what lay at the edge of their torchlights. Dragon bones. Chains still bound the creature down though they lay loose against the bone. Merlin drew in a shuddering breath. "Old friend…" He drew the light back and they continued on. Ryll wasn't the only one Uther had taken from him. His vision was tinted red at the edges as anger threatened to boil over.

"All right. Split off. Head to the gates and help take them so Morgana and her people can get in. The rest, come with me. We're going after the king." He turned to look at Merlin. "Are you with me?"

"Always, sire."

The guards were ready for an attack but even still they hadn't expected the prince himself to come. And now Merlin didn't have to hide his magic. He lashed out at the men who attacked them, flinging them back into walls, his anger at Ryll's death fueling him. They forged a path to the throne room, Merlin and Arthur at the head. Uther stood before his throne, sword drawn. When he saw Arthur, his grip slackened, and the sword dipped toward the floor. He looked defeated already. Two of Arthur's men, former knights, took the sword from Uther and held him in place. Arthur walked toward his father, sheathing his sword.

"The castle is ours, Father," he said. "We're here for justice for all the people you've needlessly killed."

"They've poisoned you, Arthur," Uther told him. "They've told you lies, and you believed them. I taught you better."

"No, you taught me to hate. It took a long time to undo that damage. I did things I'm not proud of. I've learned better now. I know the truth. You will not harm anyone else. Take him to the dungeons," he told his men. "Lock up his men and any who resist. There will be no more fighting tonight. Release anyone down there who has been locked away unnecessarily."

Uther was hauled away, still trying to convince Arthur of how wrong he was. Arthur let him go without a word. "That was…difficult," he told Merlin softly after Uther was gone.

"He is your father, sire."

"He can change," Arthur said though his voice gave away his uncertainty. "I changed. He can too."

"If you say so." Merlin didn't agree. Uther was fueled by his hatred, and he wasn't about to change. He was too set in his ways. It was too late for him.

"I need to speak to the people," Arthur said. "I need to reassure them." He put a hand on Merlin's shoulder before leaving him there.

"You're thinking about her."

Merlin blinked. How long had he been standing there? Morgana had entered the room. She was looking at him with sympathy in her eyes and Merlin knew she missed Ryll too.

"She should be here," Merlin said.

"She should," Morgana agreed.

"I should check on Gaius."

"He's fine. He's in his quarters. Gwen's with him."

Merlin moved toward the door, but Morgana put out a hand to stop him. "Arthur believes Uther can change," she said. Merlin turned his eyes to her. "I don't."

"What are you saying?" Merlin asked.

"I'm saying that I want revenge for Ryll," Morgana said. "Uther needs to die."

…

Merlin traced a finger over the familiar plaque that hung next to the door to the physician's quarters. He paused before entering the room. It brought back so many memories that felt dusty in the back of his mind. Finally he pushed open the door and entered what had once been his home. The scent of herbs and tinctures was strong, and he breathed it in. It was reminiscent of a happier time when the weight of the world had never touched his shoulders. Was he the same clumsy boy who'd walked into this room all those years ago and saved Gaius from falling with his magic? He didn't feel like the same person. He couldn't regain that carefree demeanor. After Ryll had died…after she'd died in his _real_ life. Well, there was no going back after that. Even after finding out that she was back…it wasn't the same.

"Merlin." A familiar voice drew him back to the present. He focused on the man sitting at the table across the room.

"Gaius." He hadn't realized just how much he'd missed his old mentor until he was standing before him. Gaius had always had the answers when Merlin had been lost. He'd been a surrogate father to him, a friend, and a mentor. What would he think of the man Merlin had become? What advice would he given Merlin now? "It's so good to see you," he said.

"You as well. I'm glad you made it out of the castle."

"I'm sorry Uther locked you up. He shouldn't have done that," Merlin said.

"I was conspiring with magicians," Gaius said. "He saw me as a potential threat."

"You're not a threat. You were his friend."

"Uther fears what he does not understand. He always has."

"Do you think it's fair that so many people have died and he sits in a cell instead of paying for his crimes?" Merlin asked. He sat down across from Gaius. A surge of longing for his old life filled him. Why was the tree showing him all this? This alternate reality was filled with longing and sorrow. He wanted to stay but he needed to go back to Ryll. He wished he could have changed what had happened all those years ago, but it was already too late in this reality.

Gaius furrowed his brow. "That would be stooping to his level," he said. He was giving Merlin a scrutinizing look now.

"He killed Ryll." Saying the words out loud hurt. What if he never awoke from this vision and she really was dead?

Gaius looked down. "That was terrible," he said. "She didn't deserve that. But he did not mean to kill her. I don't say that to justify what he did – there's no justifying something so heinous – but she was not his intended target."

"It was me. It's my fault she's dead."

"Merlin, you cannot blame yourself. The Uprising was sudden and chaotic. There was nothing you could have done. Just don't do anything rash, please. I know that look in your eyes."

"Don't worry," Merlin told him. "I know there's nothing I can do to bring her back."

Arthur entered the room then, still dressed in his armor. "Gaius, I have some wounded knights. If you feel able, I could use your help."

"Of course," Gaius said, getting up from the table. He gave Merlin another stern look before leaving. Merlin sat for a long moment before getting up and going in search of Morgana.

"Where is she buried?" he asked. Morgana didn't need to ask who he was talking about.

"Out in the forest," she told him. "In the clearing where you used to sometimes meet."

…

There was a rock marking the spot. Her name was artfully carved into the stone by magic, and flowers grew on the patch of earth, winding around the rock. He knew it was his magic even if he had no memory of it. Merlin carefully brushed them aside. _Amaryllis_. He bowed his head, tears leaking out of the corner of his eyes. It was too easy to believe that she really was dead and that the future was all just a dream. He'd never get her back. Their life was over.

The rage and despair that consumed him turned him into someone he no longer recognized. There was none of that naïve, happy boy left. When he returned to the castle his eyes were dry and his mind was made up. Morgana met him at the doors.

"Well?" she asked him, hazel eyes glinting.

"You were right," he told her. "Uther needs to pay for what he's done."


	35. The Test

**-Thirty-Five -**

 **The Test**

"I need something," the Wraith told Ryll as she stood before it. The threat that had followed her throughout her life, the beast that had taken the lives of her parents, now stood before her offering her a second chance at the life she should have had. She knew she shouldn't trust it. It was a Shadow Wraith. It sucked the life from people. In her childhood, Ryll's mother had trapped the demon inside of the magic ring Ryll had later inherited. She'd used her magic to keep the Wraith from hurting anyone more. Too late, it seemed, because her parents had died along with everyone she knew. What it was offering her was something she could not get on her own though.

"I need your soul," the Wraith continued. "You will not die without it, and your beloved can be happy again."

"What?" Ryll's heart dropped.

"It will only hurt a little," the Wraith told her, reaching out skeletal fingers. Ryll shrunk back.

"I'm not giving you my soul," she told it. "That's asking too much."

"Is it? Is it really too much for the one you love? He can be happy again. Isn't that what you want above all else? Even above your own happiness?"

Ryll thought of Merlin, of how much he'd changed, how sad and worn he'd become. He had lived too long and been through too much. There was no reversing that.

"He'll be happy?" she asked.

"Yes. And you will be happy to see him so. You've already died. What do you have to lose?" it asked.

Ryll took a deep, shuddering breath. She pressed a hand against her heart as if she could feel her soul beating beside it. "Okay," she said softly. "I'll do it."

…

The dungeons were just as cold and unfriendly as Merlin remembered them being. He strode next to Morgana, magic tingling at his fingertips. Uther was in the very last cell, and two guards stood next to it.

"We need to speak with the king," Morgana told them.

"Sorry, my lady, but we are not to let anyone speak to him," one of the guards said, looking uncomfortable.

"Not even the king's ward?" Morgana asked.

"I'm sorry. We have our orders."

"Well then." Morgana flicked her hand and the guards dropped to the floor. She waved her hand again and the locks on the cell clicked. She opened the door and they entered.

Uther was sitting on the hard bench inside looking utterly defeated. He looked up at Morgana, eyes flitting to Merlin and then back to his ward. "Morgana. Why have you come?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Morgana asked. "It's time for you to pay for your crimes."

"You killed Ryll," Merlin said, taking a step forward. This was his revenge. Morgana had had hers in their previous life. "You took her from me."

"Have you come to kill me?" Uther asked. He didn't look afraid. He looked resigned. It only fueled Merlin's anger. "You're not a killer," Uther told him.

Merlin clenched his fist. The cell door slammed shut behind them, locking. "You have no idea who I am."

…

Morgana turned to face the mob following her through the dark forest. The crystal was dark behind her, placid and unchanging. How did she leave this vision? Was she to die here? Suddenly a warm breeze stirred the air and the sounds of shouting died away. A light grew behind her, and Morgana turned to see her mother standing there.

"Well done, Morgana," Vivienne said, her smile warm. Her skin held color now, and she looked more like Morgana remembered her and less like a corpse. "But there's one final thing you need to do before you pass the test."

"I forgave Uther," Morgana said. "What more is there?"

"You have not yet forgiven yourself."

Morgana opened her mouth, but her mother was right. There were still the bitter remnants of hatred that never really vanished. She tried to forge onward, try to be a better person, but she could not erase her past deeds.

"But what I did before was terrible," she told her mother. "I killed people."

"That was in the past. You're moving forward. But you can only move so far forward if you don't forgive yourself."

"I don't know how," Morgana admitted.

"Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and _let go_ ," Vivienne told her.

Morgana nodded, closing her eyes and breathing in the scent of the forest. She let the breath out in a long exhale, her shoulders relaxing. "I forgive myself," she said aloud. "I'm not the same person I was before. I'm not a prisoner to my anger nor my rage. I have no hatred because life is too short for hatred. I've been given a second chance, and I will not waste it. I'm who I was meant to be."

When she opened her eyes she was back in the caves looking through the crystal. Her mother stood on the other side. She lifted a hand to the stone, and Morgana placed hers over it. Then Vivienne was gone, and the crystal went dark.

…

Lancelot made his way back through the caves the way he'd come from. He couldn't hear Nimueh or Arthur, but he seemed to know where he was going though he couldn't explain it. He heard running water and followed it for a time. He wasn't sure it led anywhere until he came to a great cavern. He stopped short. A lake took up most of the space and a tree grew in the very center of it. The tree was very clearly dying, and somehow he knew this was the source of the magic.

Across the water he could see three figures. Two had their hands placed against the tree's bark while a third stood on. Lancelot wasn't sure how they'd gotten across. There were no boats in sight. He looked back, about to call out, but he stopped short when he saw that Byron was shaking Ryll's shoulder.

"Byron!"

The druid turned and saw Lancelot. "I can't wake them!" he shouted back. "They're failing the test."

"What do you mean?" Lancelot asked.

"The tree is testing them, showing them things to see if they are worthy. But they will die if I don't wake them."

"How do I get across?" Lancelot was a fair swimmer, but it might take too long to swim to the tree.

"Magic." Byron lifted a hand and the lake parted down the middle creating a pathway for Lancelot.

Suddenly Ryll let out an inhuman scream. Byron's concentration wavered and the water sloshed back into place, baring Lancelot from crossing. "Let her go!" he heard Byron shout. The druid waved a hand at the tree and a ball of fire hit its trunk. He continued to attack it.

"Watch out!" Lancelot shouted as a branch went crashing toward Byron's head. The druid barely managed to duck out of the way. The tree was alive. Lancelot kicked off his shoes and waded into the water. He nearly slipped as the rock fell away from him. It was very deep. He backed up, preparing himself for the swim. It was then that several things happened. He heard Byron shout as the tree hit him hard across the chest. He went flying into a tangle of roots which quickly moved to bind him. Then Ryll screamed again and pried her hand from the tree. She fell backwards, stiff as a board, hitting the water with a resounding splash.

"Ryll!" Lancelot threw himself into the water, swimming as hard as he could. The lake was pitch black, and he tried not to think of how deep it went down. He couldn't see Ryll at all as if it had swallowed her whole. He reached the roots and dove down where he had seen Ryll fall. He tried to keep his eyes open though the water stung. It was too dark to see anything. He surfaced, breathing in deeply and looking around for her, but she was somewhere in the depths. He dove again but it was useless in the pitch darkness. He began to panic. Byron was engulfed in roots, and Merlin was still holding onto the tree as if his life depended on it. Lancelot dove again and this time stayed under as long as he could. Just when he was about to surface again, a light penetrated the water. It was weak at first but then grew brighter. He caught sight of a hand sinking down below him. Ryll. His lungs were bursting so he swam up as quickly as he could, gulping in air.

Merlin stood on the edge of the tree roots. His nose was bleeding and his eyes were too dark, but he nodded at Lancelot. A light grew around his hand and he forced it deeper into the water. Lancelot dove again, going straight down. Ryll was pale as a China doll as he caught her hand and pulled her up with him. He dragged her onto the tree roots and felt for a pulse. It was weak, but she wasn't breathing.

"She's not breathing," he told Merlin. He hadn't been fast enough.

Merlin knelt next to Lancelot and placed a hand over Ryll's lungs. The next moment she choked up water, turning on her side and spitting it out until her lungs were clear. She rolled onto her back, looking up at Merlin and Lancelot.

"Am I dead?" she asked. "He took my soul." She reached a hand up to touch Merlin's face. "I just wanted you to feel happy again."

Merlin grasped her hand. "I am happy," he told her. "You're alive. I thought you were dead."

Somehow Lancelot didn't think he was talking about her near drowning. "What did you two see? Byron said it was some sort of test. Byron!" Lancelot looked over to where the tree was holding the druid captive.

"Let him go," Merlin commanded. The roots fell away from Byron, and he scrambled to his feet. Merlin turned back to Lancelot. "The tree showed us visions. Alternate realities. We were tested…I think I failed."

"You and Ryll both failed because your love for each other distracts you from the quest," Byron said. He gave the tree a nervous glance. "Where's Morgana?" he asked Lancelot.

"She's trapped in one of the crystals," Lancelot told them.

"Why are you even here?" Ryll asked, her voice rough. "I thought you were taking Arthur to see his father."

"I did. Nimueh was waiting for us. She's the one who's been controlling me. She's been manipulating Uther too. She forced me to drive us here. I think I broke her control over me though. She wants the magic for herself so that she can save her people. She wants to kill those without magic," he told them. "We can't let her succeed."

"And how do you propose you do that?" A female voice drifted across the cavern, an ethereal echo. They all turned to see Nimueh standing there. Uther knelt at her feet. She had a sword to Arthur's neck. "Hand over the magic or your king dies."

"I don't have it," Merlin said. "Neither does Ryll. We didn't pass the test. The tree didn't pass it on to us."

"Then who?" Nimueh asked.

"Me." Everyone turned. Morgana stood in the entrance of the cavern. Lancelot felt a surge of pride. She'd figured out how to get out of the crystal which meant she'd passed her test. Magic seemed to glow around her, wrapping her like a blanket. She'd never looked more beautiful. "The tree chose me as its vessel," Morgana told Nimueh. "And you are not going to get its magic."


	36. Survival

**Author's Note:** Good news! I'm not going to be working 55 hours a week anymore! Things have slowed down and I get days off. Whole days off! I might finish this story after all!

* * *

 **-Thirty-Six -**

 **Survival**

"Let go of Arthur," Morgana said calmly, watching Nimueh. The girl was desperate. Morgana could see it in her piercing blue eyes. "This is between you and me."

"Wrong. This is between all of us!" Nimueh shouted, her voice reverberating around the caves as if she was trying to cow them. "We're all the pieces to a very real game of life and death and the survival of an entire people."

"You don't survive by wiping out another entire people," Morgana said. "That's genocide."

"You speak as if I don't have cause for revenge," Nimueh said coldly. "Did you live your last life with your eyes closed? No, I know you didn't. I know you felt the same thirst as I do now."

"Perhaps," Morgana admitted. "But not now. I see now that it was wrong. My actions only led to more deaths and in the end we only won by peace. In the end all it took was forgiveness."

"Weakness. In the very end you died alone. You chose to leave that world and wait for another. You gave up because you saw you hadn't won after all, that you were still alone. So painfully alone."

It still hurt to remember giving up, but that was a long time ago. "But I'm not alone now. I've found my friends again. I've asked for forgiveness and been lucky enough to receive it. I've found a life, maybe even a future." Her eyes flitted to Lancelot and he smiled encouragingly at her. "Now you are the one who's alone," she said, turning her attention back to Nimueh. "But if you let Arthur go, if you change your mind about killing all the people out there without magic, you won't be alone."

"It's too late for that. If I wanted redemption, I would have already asked for it. This is survival pure and simple."

"There's nothing pure about killing people," Merlin shouted at her from across the lake. Nimueh turned her eyes on him.

"Says the one who killed me." Her words were sharp, meant to hurt.

"I did what I had to," Merlin said, blinking. Morgana could see the pain in his eyes. They'd all taken lives before. They'd all tried to save people only to have someone die.

"You're no different than me though you try to pretend you are," Nimueh told Merlin. "What makes you better than me?"

"I'm not some hero like the story books make me out to be," he told her. "I have blood on my hands just like you, but I don't kill people needlessly. I would never kill an entire group of people just to save my own skin."

"I don't do it for myself. I do it for the people who cower in the shadows, afraid of who they are, afraid to show the world that they are different. You can't look me in the eye and tell me you don't understand that fear."

"My solution wasn't to kill everyone in Camelot who would have seen my magic as evil."

"You're too weak to understand. You're all too weak! I will do what I must." She looked at Morgana. "If you come with me willingly then I'll spare them. Resist, and I'll bring this whole cave down on their heads."

"Last time I looked, you were outnumbered," Morgana said calmly. She didn't feel as confident as she hoped she looked. Nimueh was unhinged. Morgana could see the desperation in her eyes. She was on a mission, and in her head it made total sense to annihilate an entire population just to make a safe haven for those with magic to live.

She could feel the magic thrumming under her skin, coursing through her veins like an adrenaline spike. It was too much power, and she wouldn't be able to hold onto it forever. She needed to find somewhere else for it to reside.

"I don't think you can stop me before I slit his throat," Nimueh said, tightening her grip on Arthur. Morgana saw a spot of scarlet blood appear at his throat.

"Let go of my brother!" she shouted. She seized control of the sword, ripping it from Nimueh's grasp. It flew into her outstretched hand. She felt a jolt of surprise at the surge of power, and Nimueh snarled in frustration. Arthur fell to his knees beside his father, and Nimueh screamed. Her screams were like earthquakes, rocking the caves and cracking the ceiling and walls. Bits of stone and earth fell down, sprinkling the lake with debris.

"We need to get out of here," Morgana heard Byron shout as the caves trembled. Nimueh was out of control now, letting out all her rage. It rocked the ground and the caves began to collapse. Arthur grabbed his father and dragged him away from Nimueh. Byron and Merlin had parted the waters of the lake and Lancelot was helping Ryll across. They joined Morgana on the other side just as large pieces of rock began to hit the lake. The tree behind them was groaning as its roots were battered. Morgana saw its limbs turn black and fall like ashes to the ground until it vanished altogether, washed up by the waves of the roiling lake.

"Let's go!" Byron insisted again. Morgana snapped her attention to the entrance to the cavern. Nimueh was still bringing down the caves, but she was protected by her own magic. She darted past them, striking out as she went. Arthur and Lancelot were thrown back against the cave walls. They scrambled to their feet, Arthur supporting Uther.

"Run!" Merlin shouted. "I'll try to keep the tunnels from collapsing."

Morgana too reached out with her magic and forced the rock walls and ceilings to stay in place until they'd safely passed. She led the way, somehow knowing what twists and turns to take. Daylight dawned up ahead and they surged forward, out of the caves and into the sunny gravel lot outside. Morgana let go once they were all safely out and the caves sunk into the ground, rocks collapsing down to fill the caverns. A dust storm blasted out of the collapsed entrance and then, after a few more minutes of shifting rocks and rubble, the caves fell silent.

No one spoke for a long few minutes as they stood catching their breath. Then, "She's gone." They all looked around at Arthur's words. Nimueh was nowhere to be seen. The cars were still there so she couldn't have gone far but Morgana didn't think they'd find her if they looked. No one made any move to go in pursuit.

"She isn't going to just give up," Ryll said softly. She looked pale and shaken. "She thinks she's doing the right thing."

"We need to head back to White Castle," Arthur said. "That's where Nimueh is sheltering people with magic, right?"

"Morgause is there too," Morgana said. "I don't think she knows exactly what Nimueh is doing, but I'm not sure whose side she'd pick." She felt a stab of sorrow. She wanted to trust that her sister would do the right thing, but these days there were very different ideas of what was the right thing. She felt someone take her hand and looked over to see Ryll standing there.

"You're not alone," she said. "We're your family too."

Morgana smiled. "Thank you."

"What do you think Nimueh's next play is?" Arthur asked.

"She knows she's outnumbered," Lancelot said. "She'll get help."

"The people she's been sheltering," Morgana said. "She'll use them. She's probably been turning them against non-magic people this whole time. I understand that sort of desperation to believe anything someone tells you when you're alone and afraid. When I was still learning to use my magic, I let Morgause influence me. I made bad choices. I was impressionable and they will be too if they're anything like I was. Nimueh is their savior. She can do no wrong in their eyes."

"The Knights will be ready," Lancelot told Arthur. "We'll fight by your side always."

"We have Mordred," Morgana reminded them. "He's always had strong magic."

"What about you?" Merlin asked Morgana. Even though he didn't elaborate, she knew he was asking about the magic that now ran through her veins.

"I'm strong," she told him. "But this magic isn't something I'm supposed to keep. It needs a stronger vessel than a human being."

"What does that mean?" Arthur asked.

"It means I can't hold onto it for long."

"Can you give a little of the magic to each of us?" Ryll asked.

Morgana shook her head. "It doesn't work that way. I don't know how to explain it. It's as if it's calling me to a certain place where it needs to be. But first we need to stop Nimueh. Then I'll follow where it leads me." Merlin was watching her with something behind his eyes like hunger. It disappeared a second later and she wasn't sure if she had imagined it. Her thoughts flitted to Uther's vision of Merlin destroying the world with the magic's full power. If anyone was going to try to destroy the world though, it was Nimueh.

"And we follow you," Lancelot said, breaking Morgana's distracted thoughts. She smiled at him.

"I'm not a leader," she said.

"But you have people willing to follow you," he said. "You've earned our trust and our gratitude."

"We can thank each other later," Arthur said. "Right now I need one of you to drive one of these blasted contraptions back to White Castle so we can stop Nimueh."

They all looked at each other and then filed into the cars, Merlin, Byron, and Ryll in one and Arthur, Uther, Lancelot and Morgana in the other. As Lancelot started the engine and pulled away from the destroyed caves, Morgana felt a familiarity. They were working together to save the world as they'd done before in Camelot when it had been at risk. For the first time since she'd woken up in this world, Morgana felt like she was who she wanted to be and where she needed to be. The magic tugged her in a direction somewhere to the east of where they drove, and Morgana wondered where it was calling her and if there was a place left in this world where it could be safe, where _they_ could be safe. _We'll make a place for ourselves_ , she thought. _We'll forge a new life and a new world, but not on the ashes of the old world_. Somehow they would stop Nimueh and then Morgana would release the magic. That would be the true test of their survival because if the magic died, Morgana wasn't sure if they'd be able to live without it.


	37. Call to Arms

**Author's Note:** I feel like most of my author notes are apologizing for taking forever to write the next chapter. So here we are again. I'm sorry. I'm a horrible person. No, actually we can firmly blame work. But I'm really determined to finish this story soon. Like in a week. Maybe less. I make no promises, but I'm getting psyched for the ending. I'm thinking like four more chapters and an epilogue. That sounds about right. We'll see. Thank you for reading!

* * *

 **-Thirty-Seven -**

 **Call to Arms**

"It's all coming together," Ryll told Merlin and Byron as they sped down the road back toward White Castle. "Why we were brought back."

"To stop Nimueh? Then why was _she_ brought back?" Byron asked.

"Magic was dying. We're here to save it. But without Nimueh trying to steal the remaining power, we'd never have found it. I think the _magic_ is what brought us back. It's not just a power; it's a sentient being. It controls all of our magic and sets our destinies. It makes sense."

"Do you have your magic back?" Byron asked her.

Ryll shook her head. "I think it's gone for good. It's too bad because it might have been useful with what's to come."

"As I recall, you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself with a sword and a bow," Byron told her.

Merlin was quiet in the driver's seat. His brows were furrowed, and his eyes were dark with worry. "Are you okay?" Ryll asked him.

"What?" He jumped a little as she spoke. He'd been far away or perhaps just concentrating on the road. "Oh, yeah, fine. Just worried, I suppose."

"It will be all right," Ryll said even though she didn't know that. "We'll find a way to stop Nimueh. I feel like this is the beginning of the end – what we've been headed for all this time, but I'm more afraid of what comes after. What if this is why we were brought back but then we all go back to the way we were before this?"

"Dead, you mean?" Byron elaborated.

Merlin's hand tightened on the wheel. "I'm not going to let that happen," was all he said.

If there was one thing Ryll had learned in this life and the last it was that there was always some greater force at work. Right now it was using Morgana as a vessel in the other car. What had it been in Merlin's eyes that she had seen when he'd realized Morgana had been chosen and not him? Maybe it was just that he was used to being the one to protect everyone and make the sacrifices. But maybe she'd also seen disappointment, jealousy even. Merlin had told her that his magic was diminishing. It was such a big part of who he was. Maybe he thought he'd lost his only chance to regain his magic. At least he still had some.

She'd been more than a little disappointed that she'd come out of the caves still without her magic. If they were to stand up against Nimueh and her forces then magic would be helpful. If Nimueh did really plan on using the people she'd taken in as her army then Ryll didn't want to hurt them. She knew how easy it was to be manipulated when you were scared and alone. Nimueh had offered them sanctuary so then they would trust her. It was clever really. Amass an army without ever using the words "battle" or "soldier."

She only hoped the Knights of the Round Table could help. Mordred had his magic. She hadn't known him well in her past life – hadn't had the chance. But Morgana trusted him so she did too. He had fought in the last battle – Ryll's _last_ battle. Ryll shut her eyes against the memories that filled her mind. She couldn't think of that now. If there was to be a battle then it wouldn't end as it had last time. No one was going to die this time. Even Nimueh if they could help it. They were all trying to survive. _And I want to survive_ , Ryll thought. _I want the life I was cheated out of._

But life wasn't fair and she was far from a happy ending.

…

Morgana could hardly sit still in the passenger seat of the car Lancelot drove. Her veins were fairly singing with the magic now sharing her body. It was power like she'd never felt before but she trusted herself with it. She'd passed the test and it had chosen her. She would be lying if she said that didn't surprise her. What she could have done with this kind of power in her past life… But now she had no intention of using it for evil. She wasn't even sure she _could_ wield it. Maybe it would wield her, act of its own accord.

"Are you all right?" Lancelot asked softly.

Morgana looked over at him. His brown eyes met hers for a moment before returning to the road. "I'm fine," she told him. "Just worried. We've come so far. I don't want to repeat history." Before it was someone trying to ensure that magic did die and that the second coming never happened. Now it was Nimueh trying to destroy everyone who might fear magic. For as long as Morgana could remember, it had been those with magic and those without and the fear that came with being different and not understanding that difference. Nothing had changed so maybe the time had come and gone for unity between their people but this wasn't Camelot. This wasn't a time where warlocks and druids and dragons roamed the earth and the skies. This was a world of practicality. They didn't belong out there, but that didn't mean they didn't belong _somewhere_. It didn't mean they couldn't still achieve peace. Ealdor and White Castle existed in the same capacity that they did. Perhaps there were other communities around the world where people with magic could live in peace. It couldn't just be them. Camelot had been such a small corner of the world even if it had been their whole world.

At the core of everything was the fact that they had been given a second chance at life. That was no small matter. She didn't have time to waste finding vengeance and letting hatred and prejudice consume her like Nimueh.

Morgana glanced back to where Uther sat lumped in the backseat. "Is he okay?" she asked Arthur and she found she really did care. Uther had been manipulated by Nimueh like the rest of them. She was only reinforcing the fear Uther felt toward magic.

"I don't know," Arthur replied to her question. "I don't know what Nimueh did to him."

Morgana reached out with her magic, trying to feel for Nimueh's own magic. There was nothing there. She didn't know if that was good or bad. If Nimueh was still influencing her father then she could release him, but she feared whatever was consuming him was something deeper. "I don't think it's something I can fix," she told Arthur. "It's not magic that's affecting him. It's not something magic can fix either."

"I'm going to get him somewhere safe," Arthur told her, "until this is over."

Morgana nearly asked if there _was_ anywhere safe, but she stopped herself. Arthur needed to be focused. He couldn't be worried about his father's safety. "Yeah," she told him instead. "We'll find somewhere safe for him." She turned her eyes ahead to the road both dreading and anticipating the passing miles.

…

The knights were waiting for them at the city limits of White Castle and it was like the legends of old were crashing into the modern world. They were astride horses, and six extra horses awaited them. Merlin pulled the car over to the side of the road, Lancelot doing the same behind him. Ryll felt a trill of excitement run through under her skin. It was like the days before when she had ridden as a knight of Camelot. She'd never thought she'd see them again let alone ride with them. Gwaine dismounted the moment she stepped out of the car, and she ran forward to embrace him. He pulled her off the ground, twirling her in a circle before setting her down again.

"I missed you," he told her, his usual cocky grin in place. "And I'll bet you missed me too."

"And that arrogance." She turned to the others. "It's good to see all of you." They smiled back at her. Mordred hung back. Ryll had never gotten the chance to know him, but now she greeted him like a brother in arms. "I never got the chance to thank you for fighting in that last battle," she told him. He bowed his head in acknowledgement. His eyes lit up when Morgana stepped from the car.

"Mordred!" Morgana rushed forward, and Mordred dismounted to meet her. Morgana flung her arms around the druid boy. He stood taller than her and bent down to press his chin to her shoulder. Their bond had never died. Morgana had inspired more followers than she imagined though the knights were all looking warily at her as if they hadn't let go of what she had done in her past life. Lancelot came forward and, as Morgana stepped back from Mordred, entwined his fingers with hers. Everyone stared for a moment before Arthur came forward to greet his knights.

"They don't trust me even still," Morgana said quietly to Lancelot, leaning close to him to speak.

"They will." Lancelot squeezed her hand, and Ryll wondered what exactly she'd missed. Clearly something had happened between the two of them or would very soon if they let it.

"Nimueh has gathered her forces and overtaken the castle. Not that it was much effort since everyone was away," Leon told them. He nodded to where Uther sat slumped in the backseat of the car. "Is Uther on our side?"

"He was used by Nimueh as was I," Lancelot spoke up. "He needs to be taken somewhere safe until this is over."

"What is the plan?" Gwaine asked.

"How many does Nimueh have?" Byron asked at the same time as Morgana asked, "Is Morgause with her?"

"Morgause is unaccounted for. Nimueh has at least a dozen with magic on her side. We did manage to find several of her wards that were against her plan. They joined us. They're waiting back at our camp."

"We'll give Nimueh the chance to surrender," Arthur said. "We don't want to hurt anyone nor do we want anyone to get hurt. This goes no further than the city."

"She's going to try to take the magic from me," Morgana said.

"Maybe you should stay back, away from the fighting," Lancelot said, but Morgana was already shaking her head.

"No. I need to fight. We need every chance we've got."

"Is there any way she could take the magic from you?" Arthur asked her.

"I don't know," Morgana told him. "I honestly don't understand how it works." Her eyes flitted to Merlin. "But I guess we'll find out," she said, turning back to Arthur.

"So we ride in like the days of old," Gwaine said. "Great! I'm looking forward to it!" He mounted his horse.

"We give them a chance to surrender, try to reason with Nimueh's wards. If that doesn't work then we try to take the castle, capture Nimueh, put a stop to her scheming." Arthur looked around at his knights.

"You make it sound so easy," Gwaine said.

"It won't be," Merlin said darkly. "I killed Nimueh before. I can do it again if it comes to that." Ryll didn't like how easily he spoke of taking a life.

"Hopefully it won't come to that," she said, catching his gaze. She turned to the knights. "We don't take lives unnecessarily. This isn't Camelot and this isn't the Dark Ages anymore. We fight for the safety of the people Nimueh proposes to hurt. We fight for our future in this new life and we fight for each other. We might not all have magic, but we're knights of Camelot and that counts for something." She strode forward and mounted one of the spare horses. "Who's with me?"

The knights let out a cheer, and the others mounted the horses. Arthur paused. "I need to get my father."

"He'll be safe at the camp," Percival told him.

Arthur didn't reply. He was staring at the car where his father had once sat. "He's gone."

"What?" Ryll reined her horse around. Sure enough, the car was empty. "He can't have gone far."

"Father!" Arthur shouted. "Father!"

"We need to get going," Merlin said. Ryll looked over at him, but his face was hard. "We don't have time to go after him."

Arthur looked torn. "We'll send someone to find him," Leon assured him. "If we don't move now, we're going to miss our chance."

Arthur finally nodded, mounting his own horse. Excalibur gleamed at his belt. "Can you sense him, Morgana?" he asked his sister.

She shook her head. "The magic is pulling me toward White Castle. I can't sense anything else. I'm sorry."

"He'll be okay," Lancelot told the king. "We'll keep Nimueh away from him."

Arthur nodded and kicked his horse into a canter. The others followed, falling into line. Ryll rode beside Merlin but they did not speak. Ever since they had left the caves, Merlin had been different. Quiet, serious, tired – more so than usual. She felt tired too. This battle was a race to the finish line in a sense. All she wanted was to be on the other side. Hadn't they fought and suffered enough?

It felt good to be in the saddle again despite it all. When they approached the camp within the city, set up in a grassy park, Ryll realized the city was too quiet. "Where are all the people?" she asked Gwaine.

"We evacuated the city as best we could," he told her.

"Do they remember who they are?"

"Some of them do, but most just think there was some sort of gas leak in a factory. They're in Ealdor now. Some stayed to fight."

Colorful tents decorated the park now giving the appearance of a Renaissance faire. There were men and women sharpening swords, dressed in armor. "We have armor for all of you," Leon told them. They dismounted and he led them to two tents. Morgana and Ryll entered one while Arthur, Byron, Lancelot, and Merlin entered the other.

Two sets of lightweight armor stood on stands in the center of the tent. Ryll's was just like the one she'd had in Camelot and she ran her fingers over the lightweight chainmail, memories rushing through her head. She looked over at Morgana. "I'm glad you're here," she told her friend.

"Me too. Help me into this?"

Ryll helped Morgana into her armor and then Morgana did the same for her. They strapped on swords and knives though Ryll hoped there'd be no reason to use them. "The final battle," she said. "I thought I'd already fought my last."

"We will all come out of this one," Morgana told her, taking her arms, bracing them like they were making a vow. "I will keep all of you safe."

"I know."

They pushed aside the flap of the tent and joined the others. Even Merlin had put on a little bit of armor. He turned to look at Ryll as she joined them. "Mount up," Arthur said. Everyone moved toward their horses, but Merlin moved toward her.

Ryll watched him carefully as he approached her. He said nothing, but put his hands on her waist and kissed her. There was passion and longing in the kiss and it felt like time was slipping away from them. When he pulled away, Ryll brushed a hand over his cheek.

"Is now a good time to ask for that ring back?" she asked him.

"I thought you wanted to wait."

"I need something to look forward to on the other side of this," Ryll told him.

Merlin drew the ring from around his neck where he'd been keeping it. "We haven't got all day!" Arthur shouted at them. Merlin grinned, and it warmed his face and his eyes. He took the ring off of the chain and knelt.

"Amaryllis, will you marry me?" he asked.

"I've been waiting a few hundred years, so yes," she said, holding out her hand. He slipped the ring on. The knights clapped and hollered. Even Arthur was grinning.

"We're going to have a celebration when we get back!" Gwaine cried out. "Drinks all around!"

Merlin rolled his eyes, getting to his feet. "We're not quite there yet," he told Gwaine. "Ready?" he asked Ryll.

"If I'm with you, then always."

They moved as one, the knights on their horses, Arthur leading the way. The magical refugees and people from the city who remembered their past walked behind them. They formed an odd sort of parade as they went down Main Street, heading toward the White Castle that overlooked the city. Ryll hadn't felt so alive in a long time. It didn't matter that they were riding toward a battle they might lose. It didn't matter that she didn't have her magic back. They were together, and she was going to fight harder than ever because she had something wonderful to fight for.


	38. The Clashing of Tides

**-Thirty-Eight -**

 **The Clashing of Tides**

Nimueh stood at the entrance to the castle and, when they arrived before the castle gates, Morgana could feel her magic pulsing. She wore a blood-red dress and her skin was ghostly pale against her vivid blue eyes and black hair. A dozen people, some quite young, lined up beside her. There were a few people who looked like they might have lived in White Castle before Nimueh somehow enlisted them. Their eyes were glazed, and Morgana realized they were under Nimueh's control. Morgana looked over at Lancelot. He was tense astride his black horse, hands gripping the reins with white knuckles. He felt her gaze, turning his eyes to hers.

"She's controlling them," she told him. His eyes darkened.

"Can you break her control?"

Morgana tried to reach out with her magic but something zapped her, and she recoiled. "She's got defenses up." She tried again, this time asserting more power. To her horror, the people under Nimueh's control grasped at their throats, their knees bending as if something was choking them. Morgana cut off her power. "If I try to release them, she hurts them," she told Lancelot.

The air hummed with tension as the knights lined up on either side of Arthur. Ryll was next to Morgana, looking every bit the knight she'd once been, golden hair cascading down her silver shoulder plates. Morgana had wanted to give Ryll a bit of the magic, just enough so that she wouldn't feel so unprotected, but it was as if the magic had bonded to her bones. It didn't want to let go. It was ancient and weighed on her shoulders like leaden anchors. Part of her wanted to shed it, release the tension and the weight, but she knew she needed it just as it needed her. She wasn't strong enough alone to keep her friends safe.

"Why do you stand by their side, Morgana?" Nimueh asked her. "Protecting the very people who once would have seen our kind dead." Her eyes flitted to Merlin. "He's been a traitor longer than you've had your magic." There was definite hate there. Merlin had once defeated Nimueh, but she considered him lesser. He'd sided with Arthur, not her.

"I don't want anyone to get hurt," Morgana told her. "And you do, so it's simple really. I stand by my friends because they've stood by me even when I didn't deserve it. You could walk away right now if you promise not to hurt anymore, if you give up this vendetta against people without magic. You can't conquer this world. It doesn't belong to you."

"Not yet. And it's not just for me." She spread her arms out, motioning to the people she'd taken in. "It's for all of us. It could be for you too, if you chose it."

Morgana was already shaking her head. "I don't choose it. And I won't let you harm anyone."

"Very well." Nimueh's blue eyes were sharp, dangerous. "Then I guess it's to be a battle after all."

"This isn't the way," Morgana said, looking at the young, magical people standing at Nimueh's side. "She wants to protect you but she's going to kill people to do so. We can offer you protection without taking a single life."

"How?" one of them asked, a boy with reddish hair and scared, green eyes. "I've been hunted all my life. This is the only time I've felt safe. Those people out there are never going to let us live in peace."

"They don't have to know we exist-"

"So we hide all our lives? Hide who we are? That's no life." The boy didn't move from Nimueh's side.

Morgana looked around the rest. "All of you agree with what she's doing?" she asked. "I know the world is a difficult place. I know better than anyone the persecution that comes with being different. But it doesn't have to be this way. We can start over."

"Start over where?" a girl asked. Morgana sensed hope in her.

"Anywhere. Even here. White Castle is different. So is Ealdor. These places exist where we don't have to be afraid. There have to be more people like us out there somewhere. Together we can find them, keep them safe. It doesn't need to end like this."

"Nothing's ending. This is just the beginning," Nimueh said, eyes flashing. "We have to make our way in this world boldly, no hiding, no cowering. Anyone who gets in our way must fall. This is about survival. Surely you understand that." She pinned Morgana with her eyes. "Or have you forgotten your past?"

"I'd never forget," Morgana said. She refused to look away, refused to feel ashamed. "But I'd also never make the same mistake." She turned to look at Arthur. "I stand by my brother and king and my friends. I also stand by the innocent people you want to murder just to save your own skin. That's not the future these people need. It's not the future I'm fighting for."

"Then fight for your future, and I'll fight for ours." Nimueh raised her hands and clouds darkened overhead. "It's time to see whose future is going to come true."

"Get ready," Arthur told his knights.

Morgana concentrated on creating a shield around their side. She could feel the magic reaching out, wrapping itself around them, keeping them safe – she hoped.

"Still remember how to use a sword, princeling?" Nimueh asked Arthur. "Won't be of much use to you here. You're playing with fire and you're about to get burned."

"I've got you," Morgana told Arthur. "I will protect all of you."

Nimueh flicked her hand and four women came from the shadows of the castle like wraiths. "While you've been sleeping, I've been busy. Gathering the new priestesses of this new age. Life has not treated them kindly. They have been shunned by those without magic. Now they rise up with me to usher in a new age."

"Last chance to change your mind," Merlin told the fledgling warlocks. "Is your future going to be bathed in blood or is it going to be filled with peace?" A few of Nimeuh's wards looked conflicted, but no one made to switch sides either out of fear or resolution.

"Well then," Nimueh said, "I guess this concludes negotiations."

The attack was quick, and Morgana could feel the magic straining to keep Nimueh and her priestesses at bay. Nimueh's pupils were weaker, but their magic still stabbed at the shield like pointy daggers. Morgana had to remind herself that though the magic was mighty and ancient, it was also weak and dying. She didn't know how far it could be pushed before it gave.

"Charge!" Arthur shouted and they surged forward, meeting the opposing side on the lawn before the castle. Swords flashed and magic whizzed through the air. Bricks exploded as spells were flung this way and that. Morgana tried to keep up, but her shield strained as the battle thickened. She flung out a spell to knock one of the young warlocks off his feet, but the boy was up again, his attention now focused on Morgana. There was hatred in his eyes, and Morgana wondered what he had been taught about her. Then she remembered that history and lore had painted her evil. _This is not like my last life. This is my chance to redeem myself,_ she told herself.

She fought the boy, going easy on him but not letting him press the advantage. Finally she managed to knock him unconscious and moved onto her next opponent. Only those without magic fought with swords – those under Nimueh's control against Arthur's knights and the people who'd joined his side. Those with magic were testing their powers against each other, Mordred and Merlin taking on two of the priestesses. Ryll fought with her sword, but was clearly holding back, unwilling to injure those under Nimueh's control. If only they could break the hold the high priestess had on the people.

Suddenly Morgana's horse reared up, and she felt herself falling. She hit the ground with a jolting force and raised her eyes to find herself face to face with a snake. The ground around her was covered in writhing snakes. Some of the other horses were panicking too, and their riders struggled to keep them under control. Then the snakes disappeared. It had been an illusion, but the distraction had cost them. Morgana's concentration had slipped and two of the people who'd joined their side fell. She felt a surge of magic rise up like a ball of fury before she could stop it and the two men who'd killed gripped their throats, eyes widening in horror before they fell to the ground, dead. Morgana staggered back. She hadn't meant to kill them. The magic had acted of its own accord. She hardly dared rein it back in case it broke the protection, but she didn't feel in control.

"Morgana, watch out!" Someone grabbed her, pulling her out of the way as a blast hit the ground where her head had been a second before. "Are you all right?" It was Lancelot. There was a smear of blood on his cheek, but otherwise he looked unharmed.

Morgana nodded mutely, and he helped her to her feet. "Be careful." Then he was gone, joining Arthur in a fight against three of Nimueh's men. The battle seemed to choke the air, and Morgana's ears rang with the clanging of metal and the hum of magic. It was so familiar and yet…it was something she'd wanted to leave behind in her past. She'd seen enough of war and death and this was supposed to be about peace.

Byron was fighting one of the priestesses now, but his magic was no match for hers. Morgana watched as he fell to his knees. She heard a shout and saw Ryll run out in front of him, shielding him with her body. The priestess struck and time seemed to still. All Morgana could think was _not again not again not again_ as the blur of magic sped toward Ryll's chest. Morgana flung out with the magic. The shields were failing. They were unprotected. Something met Morgana's magic and a golden glow erupted in front of Ryll, forming a wall. The attacker's magic hit the wall and rebounded off, striking the girl and sending her flying backwards. She didn't get up again. Morgana lifted her eyes to see Merlin standing across from her. His eyes were wide, his chest heaving. He rushed over to Ryll and Morgana could hear him saying _I almost lost you. I almost lost you again._

This wasn't how it was supposed to be. They weren't supposed to be fighting for their lives when they had just gotten them back. The magic throbbed and pulsed as if agreeing with her, but she didn't know how to end this. _Yes you do_. Her eyes slid to Nimueh. She was fighting Mordred now. The druid boy was unflinching in his counterattacks. He didn't falter, and Morgana saw rage on Nimueh's face.

"You of all people should be on my side!" she hissed at him. "I know how you hid, how your guardian was executed by the hand of Uther. I know your pain!"

"You don't know my pain," he said coldly. "And you don't understand my forgiveness. Arthur was like a brother to me, Morgana like a sister. The knights treated me like one of their own despite my magic. You don't get anything through acts of revenge except more bitterness. Bitterness nearly destroyed me once. It will destroy you now."

"Not if I destroy all of you first." She struck out, and Mordred staggered back.

"Don't you dare touch him!" Morgana stalked toward Nimueh. The priestess turned to her, a smile touching her lips.

"Finally. I've been waiting for this moment. You have something that belongs to me. With that magic I can ensure the safety of our people. You don't deserve it. You don't understand how to use it."

"Don't I?" Morgana reined back the control she'd had over the magic and let it loose. Nimueh's eyes widened as tendrils of black reached out, wrapping around her wrists like snakes.

"What is this? What are you doing?" There was fear in her voice now.

"I'm not doing anything," Morgana said. The sounds of battle died behind her and all she could hear was the pounding of her own heart and the rush of magic as it enveloped Nimueh. Morgana could feel the magic swelling and she realized just what it was doing. It was taking Nimueh's magic.

…

Ryll felt the rush of battle like a plunge into a cold lake. It was all so real, and that realness came with exhilaration and fear. She'd loved being a knight, loved her sword and her red cloak and horse, loved the title and the duties. But more than that she'd loved protecting her people, her city, and her king. That was before she'd died though. Now, as she strained to protect her friends and keep herself alive, her memories replayed her last battle over and over in her head. She tried to stay focused, stay in the fight, keeping her grip tightly on her sword. Every time someone came at her though, her concentration slipped and panic set in. She was afraid of dying. Afraid of death and of it being final this time. She wanted to think life wouldn't be so unfair as to take it all away from her again, but this time she didn't even have her magic to protect her. She fought on pure adrenaline, feeling like a shadow of who she'd once been. This has been her life before. She'd fought and gone on adventures and slain mythical beasts. Why now did she want to be as far away from this battle as possible? _I don't want this life anymore. I've changed_. It was such a startling idea that she was no longer Lady Amaryllis, knight of Camelot. She was Ryll. She was a girl, barely into womanhood who was frightened and fighting for a life she wanted more than anything. The ring Merlin had given her glinted on her finger and gave her strength, gave her purpose. This was their second chance, and Nimueh wasn't going to take that away from them.

Ryll leapt from her horse's back, charging into the thick of the battle. This time she didn't hold back. She fought for her life and for her future. She held back from killing, but she wasn't gentle as she bashed the hilt of her sword into her opponent's head. Perhaps she could knock Nimueh's influence out of these people. It was cowardly to hide behind these people who'd had no choice but to fight for her. It was cowardly to eliminate all who would oppose her. Life wasn't about living without opposition – life was a balance of standing up to those who stood against you and finding whatever peace and happiness there was out there. The world Nimueh wanted wasn't one that could exist because someone would always stand against her. Someone would always keep fighting. It was part of what made them who they were. Without something to fight for, life wasn't worth living. Nimueh's cause wasn't realistic, but Ryll didn't think there was talking any sense into her. So she fought.

…

Merlin was in the thick of the battle when one of the priestesses attacked him. Her magic was strong but unpracticed, untested. Merlin hadn't used his magic in a battle for centuries, but it came back to him quickly. Protecting Arthur, protecting Ryll – it was second nature to him. It was surreal though, fighting with his old friends, with the knights of Camelot and its king but not in Camelot. He wondered where these priestesses had come from. They weren't untrained though they had none of the skill Merlin had learned over the span of his life. Nimueh must have trained them during her time running A.V.A.L.O.N. Agency. The fury in their eyes as they fought, the _hate_ … Whatever Nimueh had told them, they believed it entirely. They thought they were fighting for the right cause and perhaps they were, but they were not going about it the right way. He'd spent his whole life fighting battles to achieve peace but he was tired of hurting people to achieve this goal. He sent out a particularly forceful spell, and the priestess stumbled backwards.

"Stand down!" he shouted at her. "You're in over your head."

"And you're fighting for the wrong cause!" she shouted back.

"We're fighting for the _same_ cause, but you're willing to kill an entire population to achieve that!" Merlin blocked her spell. "You don't see what's wrong with that?"

"Nimueh is trying to protect us."

"And what is your purpose after she wipes out an entire people? How will you live with yourself with that much blood on your hands?"

"As if you're really so innocent!" she hissed. "The legends might paint you a hero but you killed just as much as Nimueh. You're the one who took _her_ life."

"Because she was dangerous! Because she tried to kill the people I cared about! She would have kept killing if I hadn't done something." Why was he justifying himself to this girl? She was young. She hadn't lived the life he had, hadn't seen the things he had.

"If that makes you feel better, you can keep feeding yourself lies. Maybe you just didn't want anyone more powerful than you vying for power."

"It was never about power! It was about protecting my friends and the once and future king."

"So he could gain power! A known enemy of those with magic! Nimueh told us all about it!"

"Arthur changed! He isn't like his father! Nimueh just told you her side of the story, but she wasn't even there to see it and neither were you!"

"After all this time you're just as arrogant as I imagined." She was smiling now, a cruel and certain smile. "They paint you a hero in all the legends but I just see a man who doesn't realize he has sins to atone for."

"You think I don't realize I've made mistakes?" Merlin asked her. "I'm not a hero, and I've never said I was one. You can't believe everything the books say."

"Well then you and Nimueh agree on one thing." She lashed out again, and Merlin felt his anger rising. This young priestess was arrogant and naïve. She followed Nimueh without question. He fought harder, not holding back this time and felt a stab of satisfaction when the girl's eyes widened in realization. He was stronger than her.

"I might not be a hero," he told her as he caught her tight in his magic. "But don't make the mistake of thinking she's one." He tossed her aside, and she hit the ground. He turned and time seemed to slow.

Another of the priestesses was fighting Byron. He fell to his knees and Ryll came running out of nowhere. Merlin knew exactly what she was doing as she flung herself in front of Byron. It was instinct. Pure instinct because he knew she didn't want to die again. He sent a spell out to protect her, praying it reached her before the priestess's spell did. It collided with another protection spell. Morgana had flung out a spell at the same time and, as it hit Merlin's own magic, it rebounded back at the priestess. She was flung backward, striking her head on the ground. She didn't get up again. Morgana met Merlin's eyes before turning back to the battle. Merlin rushed over to Ryll who was helping Byron to his feet.

"I'm not worth your life," Byron said at the same time as Merlin said, "What were you thinking?" He grabbed Ryll by the shoulders and pulled her close. "I almost lost you. I almost lost you _again_."

"Old habits die hard," she said with a shrug, but he could see how shaken she was.

"Just don't get yourself killed again," he told her, trying to keep his voice steady.

"I won't."

"I'll stay with her," Byron promised. "You need to stop Nimueh. She's the key to ending this battle."

Merlin turned and saw that Morgana was engaged in battle with the high priestess. Nimueh stumbled, but Morgana looked anything but triumphant. She looked frightened. Black tendrils were reaching out to grasp Nimueh's wrists and ankles, wrapping themselves around her like pythons. Then Morgana pulled away from Nimueh and the black tendrils disappeared. Nimueh turned and ran into the castle. Morgana stood for a moment before running after her.

"Go," Ryll told Merlin. "Something's wrong." Merlin glanced at the battlefield. Three of the priestesses were down and Mordred had the fourth cornered. The odds were in their favor so he followed Morgana and Nimueh into the castle.


	39. Oblivion

**-Thirty-Nine -**

 **Oblivion**

Morgana found Nimueh on the stone tiles leading around the courtyard. Morgause was standing over her holding a knife and looking livid. She looked up as Morgana approached.

"Sister."

"Morgause. What happened? Where were you?" She looked down at Nimueh, but the priestess made no move to get up.

"She locked me up," Morgause said, spite in her voice. "I thought we were allies, but I was mistaken. I'm on whatever side my sister is on." The loyalty and love in her eyes warmed Morgana's heart. "Shall I dispose of her?"

"Wait." Morgause lowered the knife. Morgana knelt in front of Nimueh who looked up at her, fear in her eyes. "Why do you fear me?" she asked.

"It's not you I fear but that magic within you. It too is trying to survive and it will do anything to get stronger."

"Include drain your magic."

"I will call off my soldiers, just don't let it take my magic." It was all she had left.

"I won't. But there are conditions." Morgana stood. "You stop this quest of yours. You vow never to kill again. You leave this place and never return."

"Anything. Just let me catch my breath, then I'll call them off." She looked utterly defeated and Morgana turned to Morgause.

"This magic is too much," she told her. "After this is over, I need to find somewhere for it to go. It's too dangerous to be kept inside of me."

"Are you well, sister? Is it hurting you?" Morgause asked.

"Not hurting me exactly just… It's just too much."

"Just a little longer, sister."

There was a shuffling behind them and someone shouted, "Morgana, look out!"

Morgana turned in time to see a knife slicing straight toward her. She threw out a hand and the magic stopped Nimueh's hand. The priestess strained against it, but she was no match for it. She dropped the knife, glaring up at Morgana.

"You don't deserve it!" she shouted. "It was supposed to be mine! I can use it. I am _strong_ enough to use it!"

"The magic chose _me_ ," Morgana said. Nimueh choked in pain as she was lifted to her feet and then off the ground. Her hands grasped at her throat.

"Morgana, no." It was Merlin who had shouted the warning. Merlin who had wanted the power for himself. "Don't lose yourself."

But she wasn't lost. For the first time in her life she was seeing perfectly clear. The magic swelled around her, and she didn't feel afraid anymore. She could be anything, any _one_ with this power. The magic squeezed harder. Nimueh continued to struggle. Merlin rushed forward, but the magic lashed out and he flew backwards, hitting the ground hard. Morgause made no move to stop her perhaps because she knew she couldn't. But then–

"It wasn't Merlin I saw in my dream." Morgana paused, the air stilling. Her grip on Nimueh slackened. She turned to see Uther standing there looking haggard. His face was dirty and his clothes were ripped, but his eyes were clear. "I lied because I wanted to protect you."

"What are you talking about?"

"I told you that if Merlin were to take on that power, he would destroy the world. I thought you would stay away from him. But you didn't. And it wasn't him I saw. It was you. It was _you_ who destroyed the world with that power because you let it consume you." There were tears in his eyes. "But I don't believe that's who you really are. You're my _daughter_. I might not have been much of a father to you but I wasn't lying when I said I wanted a second chance. Everything I have done in this lifetime has been for you, to protect you. I thought if I destroyed the caves, destroyed the magic, then you wouldn't fall to its power. If you keep hurting her, if you _kill_ her, then you're throwing away your second chance, then you're becoming just like her."

Morgana hesitated. Everything in her was telling her to kill Nimueh, to rid the world of her and her genocidal ideas.

"You're better than that." The words were soft as if spoken from a distance. She looked up and saw that Ryll had approached. There was no fear in her eyes as she met Morgana's gaze. Nothing but a steady confidence that said she trusted Morgana. "This isn't you. You're stronger than this. Stronger than the magic." And then she smiled as if she was realizing something wonderful for the first time. "You're the hero," she told Morgana. "I might have died for this Second Coming to happen, but you're the hero of this story. You're going to save us. It's not up to me and it's not up to Merlin. It's not up to Arthur or Nimueh. It's up to you. What kind of life are we going to make this?"

Morgana looked back down at Nimueh, but she found her hatred was gone. Her lust for vengeance disappeared. _So this is what it feels like_ , she thought as she let go. _This is what I've been fighting for all along_. She felt the magic release Nimueh, felt herself falling into blackness, felt it swallow her whole.

When she awoke she was no longer in the castle courtyard but standing before Camelot. It was different from what she remembered. The woods had grown all around it, encroaching on what used to be Arthur's land. The castle itself was dilapidated and abandoned, falling apart from years of disuse. She spun around but she was utterly alone. A loneliness swallowed her heart and suddenly she was back at the end of her time in Camelot, alone and hopeless. She'd seen her dragon cut down by hunters. She'd lost her best friend. She'd left her home. She was remembering the despair she'd felt before she'd cast the spell to put herself to sleep until the Second Coming arrived. She'd given up and right now she felt like she was close to the same but then her vision came back and she was still in Camelot. This time it had changed. The trees still crept up on the castle, but the walls were not so derelict. Birds sang in the forest and there was the sound of life within the castle walls.

"Are you all right, Morgana?" She turned to see Arthur standing there.

"Where are we? Am I dead?" she asked him.

He gave her a funny look. "Dead? No. You're home."

Morgana turned back to the castle and felt a rush of belonging she had not felt for so many years, so many _centuries_. She _was_ home. Camelot somehow existed again. And then it dawned on her – _this_ was where the magic could go. Instead of bringing destruction, it would bring new life. Camelot was a vessel waiting to be filled with life and laughter once more. A smile touched her lips before she found herself back in White Castle, Ryll and Morgause crouched next to her.

"I saw a vision," she told them softly. "Of Camelot. We must bring the magic there."

"You're not making sense. What do you mean 'bring the magic there'?" Ryll asked.

"The magic needs a stronger vessel than me to contain it. The tree died leaving the magic with nowhere to anchor itself. Camelot will be its anchor. The magic will restore it. We can have a place in this world. We can go _home_."

"Camelot is just a pile of stones," Ryll told her. "I've seen it myself."

"Stones can be rebuilt. I feel it calling me. Calling me back home."

"It might work." Merlin was still standing across the courtyard, but his eyes were focused, keen. She saw a hope there that she hadn't seen since she'd returned.

"First we finish this fight. No one else gets hurt." Morgana got to her feet with Ryll and Morgause's help. Nimueh was lying on the ground, cowering, and Morgana felt a stab of sympathy. The magic could be cruel, she knew that much. It protected itself and it protected the future of those who carried its magic. Nimueh had threatened all that, but in the end, she really had wanted the same thing. Morgana nodded to her. "Make sure she's treated well," she said. Morgause nodded.

"I'll see to it, sister."

Morgana walked out of the castle and onto the front lawn where the battle still raged. "It's over," she called out in a clear voice. "Nimueh is defeated and the battle is won."

The fighting ceased. Swords clattered to the ground. The people who'd been under Nimueh's control looked confused and dazed.

"There is a place for you in this world, a place for all of you. We're going to rebuild Camelot. Forge it anew. Who is with me?"

There was silence and then two of Nimueh's wards stepped up. "We just want to be safe," they told her.

"I can make you safe. We go now to Camelot. It's been waiting for its king." She met Arthur's gaze. "This life is what we make it. We'll never be normal like the other people out there, but we also have a place to be ourselves. This is our second life, our second chance, and we're going to make sure it's a good one. No more fighting, no more hatred, no more fear. If you wish to stay in White Castle or Ealdor, you will be protected. They are a part of our little corner of this land. If you wish to come to Camelot, pack your things and be ready to leave within the hour. A messenger can ride ahead and spread the word to those who evacuated."

"You heard her," Arthur said. "Get moving." He smiled at her, coming forward. "How did you manage this?" he asked. "I thought Camelot was just ruins now."

"It is, but I have the power to make it whole again. We all do. We were always meant to come back to it in the end, to make things right so that we did not have to suffer the loses we did before. I once let myself sink into oblivion thinking that there was no hope left in the world, no home for me, no family or friends. I let that consume me. I'm not going to let that feeling into my heart again."

"I just wish…" Arthur hesitated, eyes going distant. "I just wish we were all here to see it."

"Gwen."

"I thought she'd be here. I don't know how to live in a world without her."

"I'm sorry."

Morgause was leading Nimueh out of the castle now, Uther trailing behind her. Arthur lit up to see his father, and Uther started toward them to greet his son.

They say time slows down when something horrible happens. That was a lie. Time speeds up until it's a blur and you're left wondering how it happened. Nimueh still had some strength left. She used it to push Morgause away from her and snatch up a fallen dagger. Morgana's first thought was that she meant to kill herself. Then the knife sunk into Uther's back up to the hilt.

"You don't deserve a second chance!" Nimueh shouted as Uther stumbled. Morgause grabbed her and the knights helped her hold Nimueh down, binding her hands and dragging her away. Morgana stood for a moment. Then Uther was falling, and she rushed to catch him before he hit the ground.

"No no no no!" This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. They were supposed to start over. She held his head in her hands. "Stay with me. I'll heal you. I can use the magic-"

"No." Uther's voice was firm. "You need it all for rebuilding Camelot."

"I can spare a little."

"I was never meant to live this life a second time," he told her, looking up at her. The grey eyes she'd once found so cruel and cold were now filled with a father's love for his daughter. "That I should get the chance to seek my daughter's forgiveness is more than I could have ever asked for."

"I can't lose you now. We were supposed to be a family," Morgana said, tears rolling down her cheeks. Arthur joined her, crouching down and taking his father's hand.

"We are a family," Uther said. "We always will be. You need to live your life, Morgana. Anyway, there's only room for one king in Camelot." He looked over at Arthur.

"I lost you already," Arthur said. "I don't want to lose you again."

"This was borrowed time for me," Uther said. "I've always known that."

"You knew this would happen?" Morgana asked.

"When I was reborn, I was shown just what my purpose was. I tried to change it, tried to make things different, but in the end all I really wanted was to see my children again and ask for their forgiveness."

"You have it," Morgana told him. "You have it."

"Then I am complete."

"No, don't leave us." Morgana bowed her head over him, but he had already stopped breathing. She started to sob. Arthur gently laid his father on the ground and pulled Morgana into his arms. Her tears soaked his tunic and they mourned the loss of their father together.

"I could have healed him," she said.

"You already did," Arthur told her. "All he wanted was your forgiveness." Somehow, by some small miracle, that made her feel better.

"We need to take him home," Morgana told Arthur. He nodded.

"We will," he promised her. "We will."

Somewhere along the line Lancelot had put an arm around Morgana and guided her to a waiting car. A procession of people followed them, but Morgana turned her head away and closed her eyes. A hero saved everyone. A hero didn't let someone die like that.

"It wasn't your fault," Lancelot told her. She wished she could believe him.


	40. Homecoming

**Author's Note:** This has been an amazing journey, but now it comes to an end. I started _Forbidden Magic, Unbidden Love_ while I was still in college. How I found time to write that and go to school, I'm not sure but maybe that's why it took me three years to write it. I always had a certain ending in mind. I was going to kill off my main character. Fortunately for her, I had a plan for a sequel and _The Second Coming of Camelot_ was born. I just want to thank everyone who has read this story and the first. You guys are awesome, and it means so much to me that you've ready my story. I know I wasn't always the greatest at updating. Life always has a way of getting in the way. I want to especially thank AndreKl for reviewing nearly every chapter and pushing me to go further than the show in my first story. The ending wouldn't have turned out differently from the show without a push. Sometimes I get too stuck with trying to write cannon, but part of the fun of writing fanfictions is you don't have to. You can be creative and make the story your own.

Thank you again for every favorite, follow, and review. I've loved writing this story, and I hope you've loved reading it.

* * *

 **-Forty-**

 **Homecoming**

Lancelot wanted to say something – _anything_ – to make Morgana feel less retched. He knew she blamed herself for Uther's death. The blame had fallen on her twice though she didn't deserve it the second time. He wished he could make her see that. She'd been through so much. She deserved her turn at happiness. He wished he could give that to her. Wished he could make her happy.

The drive to Camelot was surreal. They stopped in Ealdor and the people gathered together. It was decided that they should continue on horseback. Camelot wasn't a place for the modern world to intrude upon. Those who chose to leave the modern world for the shelter of Camelot left their cars and their phones and their smart watches behind. Some chose to stay. They liked this new world. Some people seemed oblivious to the Second Coming altogether. They thought some sort of Medieval Faire was going on and came outside to see the procession.

"That's King Arthur!" a little girl said excitedly to her mother as Arthur rode past on his horse. Arthur smiled at her and she waved. Ryll and Merlin rode behind him and then his knights. Morgana mounted a black mare and fell into place beside Lancelot at the very back of the procession. Roughly two hundred people were coming with them. All of Nimueh's former wards were with them. Nimueh had been banished. Arthur had decreed it after Lancelot had driven Morgana away from the scene. Morgause, Mordred, and Byron were seeing to it personally that she was delivered out of White Castle's borders. Lancelot hoped Arthur's mercy would change Nimueh's views on people without magic, but he doubted it. Hatred was a long and bitter thing.

It was a long ride and they camped for the night. Cars would have been much faster but it was fitting returning to Camelot on horseback. He was beginning to worry about Morgana though. She'd stayed silent for most of the ride, and her skin was paler than usual as if the magic was draining her of energy. He'd asked about it, but she'd shaken her head and told him she was just tired.

Finally on the second day of their journey, they came to a forest that looked familiar. Even though the forest had aged and new trees had grown, Lancelot would never forget the feeling of home. Even Morgana seemed to gain a little spark of energy. She sat up straighter in the saddle and looked keenly ahead.

"I know these woods," she said aloud. She pushed her horse faster and passed the long line of riders. Lancelot followed after her. Morgana pushed her horse until it was galloping, cutting through an overgrown pathway that broadened the closer they got to their destination. When Lancelot caught up to her, she had stopped her mare.

"We're here," she told him. "We're home."

Camelot rose up amongst the trees like a faded memory. Its glory was now diminished, stones shattered, walls dirty. But it still stood. Arthur, Merlin, and Ryll were the next to reach the clearing. Arthur stopped his horse and dismounted, walking forward to gaze at his kingdom.

"I never thought I'd see it again," he said. He went forward and pressed a hand to the stone. "It was so long ago."

"It's time," Morgana said. The people stopped at the edge of the clearing, lining up in a semi-circle as Morgana dismounted and stepped forward. Arthur, Merlin, and Ryll gave her space, but Lancelot came forward and touched her arm.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked.

Morgana met his eyes, and he saw more life in them than he had in days. "I'm sure," she told him. "This is where the magic wants to be. Once I release it, we can begin to rebuild."

"Just…be safe," he told her.

"I will."

He stepped back and watched with the others as Morgana began to release the magic. For a moment nothing happened. The woods were still and not even a bird sang. Then Morgana's back arched and she let out a silent scream. Something like light and dancing shadows leapt from her mouth, from her eyes and ears and fingers. It was as if she _was_ the light. It glowed and pulsed and suddenly swept the clearing like a pulse, touching every crevice and corner of the castle and the woods surrounding it. Lancelot felt it like a sting of static electricity. Then it was over.

He saw Morgana falling and ran forward to catch her before she hit the ground. Her eyes were shut tight. He felt for a pulse. "Morgana…" Her pulse beat quickly, and she came to the next moment, opening her eyes. She stared up at Lancelot for a moment and then at the castle. He followed her gaze. The castle was still derelict, but the bricks were the same clean white they had once been. The trees now echoed with the sound of birdsong. The ground seemed more alive. More than that, Lancelot could feel the protective spell that encased Camelot.

"No harm can come to this kingdom as long as the magic holds," Morgana said.

"Arthur?" A familiar voice came from the castle gates. Lancelot's eyes flashed to the figure who came out of the castle. She wore a tattered purple dress and her long, dark brown hair was falling loose from its braid.

"Gwen?" Arthur's voice was broken with emotion. "Is that you?"

"Oh, Arthur! I've been waiting for you for so long." Gwen's smile lit the entire clearing. She ran forward and met Arthur in a tight embrace. "All my friends." She looked at each of them in turn, eyes landing on Morgana last.

Morgana got to her feet with Lancelot's help. He kept a protective hand on her elbow. Morgana didn't speak. She stood as if awaiting her Gwen's judgment. Instead Gwen broke her hold on Arthur and came over to wrap her arms around Morgana.

"I missed you," she said, holding her tightly. A tear rolled down Morgana's cheek and then another until she was crying. Gwen held her the entire time. "I missed you so much," she told Morgana.

"I'm so sorry. For everything I did. I'm so sorry."

The people of Camelot were coming forward now, wandering into the castle gates. Some called for tents to be erected, fires built. They needed to hunt. They needed to gather wood. The knights helped organize parties. Finally Gwen and Morgana broke apart, Morgana wiping her tears away.

"Have you been here this whole time?" Ryll asked. "Merlin and I came here. We didn't see you."

"When I awoke, I found myself here, alone. I had no memories of how I'd gotten here. I just knew that if I waited, Arthur would find me. I didn't see you or Merlin, but I didn't always stay in the castle."

"We tried to find you using magic."

"Camelot was protected," Merlin said. "Some magic still kept it safe. Why else would it still stand? If anyone had been able to find it then it would have been looted or turned into some sort of historical site. I could find it out of memory, but it couldn't be found with magic. Nor could Gwen if she remained within its walls."

"I'll never understand the complexities of magic," Arthur said.

"I think this whole situation outdid itself on complexity," Ryll said, slumping against Merlin. "It's all been one long scavenger hunt for answers leading us right back to where we all came from."

"We're all here now," Arthur said. "We can start rebuilding." He took Gwen's hand and led her into the castle. Merlin and Ryll followed.

Soon Lancelot and Morgana stood alone before the castle gates. "Do you want to go in?" Lancelot asked Morgana. She hadn't made any move to go inside the castle.

"Why did you help me all along?" she asked, turning to face him.

"I've told you – I saw the good in you. I saw that you were really trying to atone for your past mistakes."

"My actions led to your death before. That's not something easy to forgive."

Lancelot shrugged. "It's not, but it's also something I can't hold against you forever. I have to move on or I haven't really stopped being dead. If we hold onto hate then we turn into something empty and desperate like Nimueh. She never let go of anything."

"And now?" Morgana asked. She was skirting around what she really wanted to ask. "Now what?"

"Now we find our place in Camelot again and start over."

"I don't know what my place is anymore," she said, eyes falling.

"Then you can find that out. It might take a little time, but there's nothing pulling our strings anymore. No one telling us what our purpose is or who we need to be. We can be whoever we want to be."

"I want to be someone that others can trust and rely on," Morgana told him.

"You already are that person."

"Then I want to be someone who never stops helping others. I want to do something good for everything bad I did before. I want to feel alive again. I'm tired of this empty hole inside of me. I want to feel whole again."

"Tell me what I can do." He reached forward and took her hand. "Can I do anything to help you feel less empty?"

Her breath stuttered for a moment. She gazed up at him with a curious look in her eyes. Then she tilted her head upward slightly. Lancelot leaned forward, slowly, giving her time to pull away. When she didn't, he leaned closer until only a breath lay between their lips. "I'm not sure I deserve you." She said it so softly that he barely caught her words.

Instead of refuting it, he brushed his lips against hers. She gripped the front of his shirt and let him kiss her.

"I can see it now," she said when he pulled away.

"See what?"

Her eyes were bright as she looked up at him. "How to feel whole."

He smiled down at her and she leaned up to kiss him again. It was a hesitant kiss as if she'd forgotten what it was to have someone care about her. He had never thought about kissing her before but this was a new life and right now she fit perfectly into his arms.

…

Ryll stood on the parapet where she used to stand when she needed to be alone. Merlin didn't want her to be alone though. He put a hand around her waist and pulled her back against his chest.

"It's not the same," she said.

"Camelot? Well, it is missing a few bricks." He grinned, resting his chin on her shoulder. It lit her heart on fire to hear him so happy again. It was as if centuries of pain and worry had dissipated. Perhaps the magic had healed more than just Camelot.

"It's not that. It's just…" She sighed as if she couldn't find the right words. "I'm not the same Amaryllis who lived here," she said. "I want more."

"Lands? Titles? I'm sure Arthur would make you a duchess if you asked nicely."

Ryll smiled. "Camelot used to be my whole world," she told him. "But now there's so much more out there I haven't seen. I spent a…a lifetime in Camelot already. I died here already."

"You don't want to stay."

She pulled away and turned so she could look at him. "I know we just got here but…"

"Ryll. Do you know how many years I spent wandering the world and wishing you were with me?" Merlin asked her, taking her hands. "I don't care where I live as long as I'm with you. We could move to Antarctica or Timbuktu. I just want to be with you. Camelot will be here. It always has been."

"Really? You mean that?" She was grinning now.

"Of course I do. There's just one thing we need to do first."

"What's that?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Marry me."

…

They held the wedding at sunrise the next morning. Some miracle had found Ryll a gown that didn't reek of mothballs. It was a filmy gold with a beaded bodice and she felt like her old self again in it although she couldn't go back after discovering the merits of jeans and trainers. They held the ceremony in the courtyard, now decorated with forest flowers. Arthur officiated it and neither Merlin nor Ryll cared that he had no idea what to say. He stumbled over the words Lancelot whispered to him out of the corner of his mouth.

"You can, er, now kiss... Oh just kiss."

Ryll and Merlin grinned as Arthur spoke the final words of the ceremony. Ryll threw herself at Merlin, kissing him like she'd never get the chance again. Fortunately for them, they had many more years for that sort of thing.

Instead of going off immediately, Ryll and Merlin both agreed to stay and oversee the castle reconstruction for a few days. In truth they were waiting for the right moment to tell the others they weren't staying.

"We can always come and visit whenever we want," Ryll said told Merlin that evening after the festivities were coming to a close.

"Morgana will miss you."

"I think Morgana has found someone else to make her happy," Ryll said, smiling as she watched Morgana and Lancelot walk past where she and Merlin were standing. They were holding hands, and Morgana looked happier than Ryll had seen her…perhaps ever.

"Well that I did not see coming," Merlin said, squinting at the two as if he was miss-seeing it.

"I had a feeling there was something going on there," Ryll said with a sly smile.

"I will never try to understand that innate super sense you girls have," Merlin replied.

"Nope. Don't even bother."

"This is just like how it used to be between us," Merlin said. "I missed that."

"I did too. I'm sorry I didn't remember you at first. How could I forget the best thing about my life?"

"Magic's complexities. We don't even try to question it. Speaking of which, did you feel anything when Morgana released the magic? A spark of your own magic?"

"Nothing so far," Ryll said. "I think it might be gone for good."

"Maybe not. Maybe it just hasn't been reborn yet."

"I'm okay without it," Ryll told him. "I'm happy."

"I feel stronger now," Merlin admitted. "My magic isn't weakening anymore. I can feel it in the air. It's whole again."

"It's safe here. Safe from the outside world. Safe from people who wouldn't understand. We'll always be able to come back though. This is where everything started and where everything ended. And now we begin again somewhere new but we can always come home."

Merlin twined his fingers with Ryll's and the golden ring glinted on her finger. "I'm already home."

…

"You're leaving. But you'll be back." Arthur stood in the throne room before Merlin and Ryll. Morgana, Lancelot, Gwen, and the knights were gathered too. Byron, Mordred, and Morgause had returned the night before. Morgause had made herself scarce, and Morgana had told them her sister would not live in the city though she no longer counted herself an enemy of Arthur.

"To visit, yes," Merlin said.

"We're not going to live here," Ryll cut to the point. "I love Camelot and being reunited with my friends is a gift I never imagined I'd receive. The world is calling me though. I already lived my lifetime in Camelot. I need to explore more of the world than this small corner." She looked at Morgana, feeling a prickle of guilt.

"You deserve to be free," Morgana told her. "Go live your life. You've earned it." She came forward and pressed something into Ryll's hand. It was her crystal pennant. "This is the last of the Crystal Caves," she told her. "Keep it to remind you of where this all began."

Ryll clasped it around her neck. "You know I'll miss you. All of you." She looked around the room. "I died too soon before. There were so many years left that I could have spent with the most incredible people it has been my honor to know. Some of you were taken too soon." She looked at Lancelot. "But nothing makes me happier than to know you all get to live another life. We came to Albion's aid in its time of need like the legends foretold. We found a new hero for this new chapter in our story." She smiled at Morgana. "I'm ready for my next adventure. The time for preordained lives is over. We forge our own paths now."

"If you're really set on leaving then will you do me a favor?" Arthur asked.

"Anything."

"Be my ambassadors for the outside world? Even if it doesn't know we exist, there might still be people out there looking for sanctuary. I've asked Morgause to meet me here tomorrow. I'm going to ask her if she'll continue her work with young people with magic. She can shelter then and bring them to safety. Our work is not limited to Camelot."

"Thank you, Arthur. It would be our honor."

Goodbyes were never easy. Ryll had said her fair share of them but this time she had hope that it would not be her last goodbye. As she took Merlin's hand and crossed over the barrier of magic into the real world, she looked back and found she was ready to move forward. There was a whole world out there waiting, and she wasn't going to waste a second of it.

"Ready?" Merlin asked her.

She tightened her grip on his hand. "Always."


	41. Epilogue

**-Epilogue-**

 **Ten Years Later**

The doors and windows were open letting in the golden streams of afternoon light. Ryll could smell the sea from the doorway where she leaned, eyes closed, face turned up to the sun. She could hear laughter behind her and turned to see Merlin chasing after a little boy with shocking blue eyes. Merlin's eyes. His curly black hair flopped as Merlin caught him up in his arms and twirled him around. The boy's older sister danced out of reach as Merlin tried to pull her into his embrace. Her golden curls danced with her and her smile made Ryll's heart melt. The little girl skipped into the house and ran to Ryll. Ryll bent down to engulf her in her arms. Merlin came in from the backyard, still holding the boy tight in his embrace. The sun illuminated him, and Ryll had to squint against its brightness to see his face. He set the boy down and he ran forward to hug Ryll as well.

"Can we go to the beach later?" the little boy asked.

"I want to build a sandcastle!" the girl said.

Ryll stood and looked up at Merlin. "I think that's a wonderful idea."

"I want to build Camelot!" the boy said excitedly while his sister grabbed her favorite book. _Famous Women of History_ was well read, the edges showing wear and tear. There was one page that was newer than the rest. Ryll had replaced it herself. _Morgana_ the title read. _Heroine of Camelot_.

"Are we still going up to Camelot tomorrow?" Merlin asked.

"The kids have been asking after their Aunt Morgana and Uncle Arthur," Ryll said. "They wouldn't miss it for anything."

Merlin put an arm around her waist and they stood together in the sunlight letting the salt-scented wind brush their faces. Ryll rested her head on Merlin's shoulder.

"Are you happy?" he asked her.

"I'm home," she told him. "There's nowhere on earth I'd rather be."

 **THE END**

 ** _Appendices:_**

\+ Merlin and Ryll spent three years travelling the world together. They returned to Merlin's home in Hunter's Grove after Ryll discovered she was with child.

\+ Emmaline Hunith Emrys was born followed by her brother, Roman Arthur Emrys two years later.

\+ In their travels, Merlin and Ryll discovered other magical communities around the world.

\+ Morgause continued to help people with magic who had nowhere else to go, sheltering them in Camelot and teaching them to control their powers.

\+ Nimueh was never seen nor heard of again and it is not known if she ever gave up her hatred.

\+ Arthur ruled Camelot with Gwen at his side and made Morgana his chief advisor. They visit their father's grave every year on the anniversary of his death.

\+ Though they never married, Lancelot and Morgana stayed together in Camelot, finding peace within each other's company.

\+ Merlin and Ryll visited Camelot often and their children only ever knew the legends as true (though the _real_ version of history, not the version told in story books).

\+ A year after giving birth to Emmaline, Ryll's magic started to appear again though not as powerful as before. Both children started to show signs of magic at the age of three.

\+ Gwaine was rumored to be breaking hearts and overseeing the rebuilding of _The Rising Sun_ which Byron offered to run.

\+ Ryll's Sidhe blood made her immortal, and Merlin never had to worry about losing her again. In Camelot their love is legendary.

\+ Though most of the history books don't get it right, King Arthur and Merlin live on in stories. New research was found regarding Morgana and some history books have started questioning if she really was the villain of the story. For those who know what really happened, who lived through it and fought in very real battles, they are content to let everyone else believe they _are_ just a legend.


End file.
